Empress
by xLilim
Summary: Kouen is married to the princess of a foreign country to further his plans to unify the world. He holds no interest in his new bride, apart what her country can offer. However, Asta of Ione is not going to let her new husband trample all over her and she is willing to go through great lengths to make their marriage work for the sake of her country and her dignity. KouenOC
1. 01 Bone Dust - Asta

**Disclaimer**: This will be the forever disclaimer, thus applies to every chapter of this story. I do not own Magi or its characters, Shinobu Ohtaka does. I only claim ownership of the original characters and this humble fanfic.

**Warning**(**s**): Everything included in the rating applies to the level of violence, language, and adult content in this story. Proceed with caution if you are easily offended by violence or fairly descriptive depictions of adult relationships.

**xl**: To be honest, I wasn't going to upload this on the site, but I decided to just go ahead and do it because I kinda like it a lot. You should definitely spend some time to read a bit about the format of this below.

This is my first time writing Magi Fanfiction and I am very nervous about it...like very on the bring of a panic attack nervous. I don't want to mess this up. I also want to apologize for the cliche arranged marriage angle I am working at here, but I'm kind of a sucker for these.

I copied and pasted everything below this line and after this colon:

I decided to stop horsing around and edit this properly.

This story came in 3rd on my Future's Poll (or at least, I think it came in 3rd. I don't really remember that far back and it was only November). I'm happy I can release this at all because I ended up enjoying the writing - even though I was dreading it.

I mentioned earlier in a post that I'm totally experimenting with the format of this story. Each chapter is split into parts, one detailing the OCs POV and the other doing the same for Kouen's POV. There will be the occasional extra here and there. Asta and Kouen will have joint chapters when they have lengthier interactions, or could even have standalone chapters that will be used to advance the plot forward. It'll depend.

I apologize beforehand that the characterization will likely be a bit rough, but I'll try my best with it.

Enjoy.

**February 15 Edit** - I decided to move all introductions to my LJ exclusively and mark them as extras for the story because it'll make me feel better.

* * *

><p><strong>BONE DUST<strong> | IO ASTA

{ **i** }

The first time Princess Asta of Ione saw Prince Kouen of the Kou Empire, she was cutting lilies from a field for her mother, her attendant half-jogging to keep up with her long strides.

Asta looked up because she felt watched and found him standing far ahead of her among the same crop of white flowers staring back at her. His face was unexpressive, red eyes narrowed and framed by red hair. He seemed small at a distance, but had a powerful build—broad-shouldered and sculptured torso—underneath his traditional clothes. He looked upon her with the same scrutiny others had before him, searching every inch for even the slightest hint of a flaw.

She had long recognized her position. She had been bred for a political marriage, to wed some king or prince somewhere out in the world, and several come and gone with offers her father deemed unworthy of her hand.

It had not been forbidden for Ione to be ruled by a woman, it had been her father's assumption that she did not possess the ability to govern their kingdom that led to his rejection of the mere idea of grooming her to be queen. She had been pronounced heir because she had no brothers, but it had always been a temporary title. She had known for as long as she was a child that Ione would be ruled by her husband.

So long as she remained unmarried, Ione was hers. Asta dreamt of it remaining hers because she wanted to restore Ione to the sanctuary it had been before her father squandered the kingdom's fortune by investing it completely on the army. She had been young when her father had taken the throne, never having known the prosperous, joyful Ione that the older servants had often spoken about.

Asta turned away from the foreign prince, ripping flowers from the earth to set beside her mother's corpse. She cursed her father's audacity for meeting Prince Kouen of the Kou Empire on the day of her mother's funeral. His greed had blinded him to everything, so much that he desecrated that day to consider another marriage offer. He only wanted her to save him from completely ruining the kingdom, so that he wouldn't have to suffer the shame of it.

"Princess," her attendant called worriedly. "You will damage the flowers."

"I cannot believe him!" Asta shouted, tears springing back into her reddened eyes. She had been crying all morning and to comfort her, her attendant had suggested they pick enough flowers to fill her mother's vessel as a grave and to distract her from the sadness. Her mother had been her only comfort in that dreary, stone castle on the hill and sickness had taken her away. Asta had never felt so alone in life that comfort seemed foreign and tranquility seemed impossible. Her heart had been in a state of chaos since her mother had been pronounced dead by the physician. "He cannot wait a mere day to continue his affairs! He has to do it today of all days! How can he do this to her? Hasn't he done enough?"

Her attendant stared back at her, wide-eyed and speechless.

"None of that is important, Brita!" she continued, her body trembling with frustration. "He doesn't care! He's never cared!"

"Princess," Brita reasoned, raising a hand towards her.

Asta allowed Brita's hand to rest on her cheek as she started to sob. The action comforted her and filled her with memories of her mother. Her heart was too heavy for her chest.

"The king is terribly saddened by Queen Ingrid's passing," Brita said softly. "This meeting was scheduled long ago. You understand, right? He couldn't afford angering the Kou Empire."

Brita gently brushed the tears from Asta's cheeks, smiling warmly.

Asta nodded. She wanted to believe goodness existed in her father, that he wasn't all greed and tyranny, but she realized that afternoon, as she stood by the shore watching her mother's ornate vessel engulfed in flames, that he wouldn't attend.

He hadn't bothered and it finished breaking her heart.

{ **ii** }

They were supposed to run away.

Asta had been in love with Johan since they had become acquainted during a victory feast hosted in the castle's Grand Hall. As princess, she had to greet and thank her father's soldiers for their military work. She had done so, year after year during annual gatherings and during the occasional victory celebrations. On the year of her fourteenth birthday, the senior commander of the Ionian army had introduced their youngest commander, newly appointed, and she had been stunned into silence by his charming face. She had pursued him quite openly for the greater portion of the year, discouraged from doing so by her maids and her mother, who had warned her against falling in love with a soldier.

"You are a princess, Asta," her mother had said. "I understand that you are young and that you cannot help your feelings, but do try to be careful. Guard your heart. That isn't just yours to give to anyone."

"But, mother," Asta had whined, feeling the warm caress of her mother's hand against her cheek. "I really like him. I do. I promise that I do. Father won't mind, I'm sure of it. Johan is a commander. He would make a wonderful prince. The people already love him."

Her mother had smiled, looking beautiful under the sunlight that poured into her bedchamber. "I know that, Asta," she had said, "but you should understand that you do not just belong to yourself, but to the people. They are your family and one day, you will be queen. You have to make sacrifices for the better of the country. You cannot give your heart to anyone. You have to give it to someone that will help our people prosper. You are the only one that can help this country become what it used to be."

"But—"

"Asta," her mother had said firmly. "Promise you will do this for me."

"I promise," she had responded, reluctant.

Asta had tried obeying her mother's sound council, but she hadn't been able to keep her promise, not when she'd learned that Johan reciprocated her feelings.

Perhaps, things would have been different if he hadn't, but she hadn't gotten the chance to find out.

Johan loved her and it had been all that mattered. They had maintained a secret relationship. He had often snuck away from his duties to enter the castle through the stables where she had often met him, avoiding her tutors to spend more time with him. Many had begun to suspect because she had stopped pursuing him as obviously as before. That had been her biggest mistake, but her mother had never gotten the chance to reprimand her.

She had been too weak, too weak to do more than lie in bed, her beauty withering as disease ate away at her defenses. She had died after a long and painful struggle, leaving Asta to whatever fate her father deemed worthy of her. He did not intend to let her inherit the kingdom and he had proven it when he had agreed to meet with an envoy from the Kou Empire to discuss a political marriage. The Kou Empire's emperor had been notorious for marrying his daughters to foreign kings and princes to spread the influence of his empire, and more importantly expand it. It had only been a matter of time before the Kou Empire reached out to them, though her father had expected it to be in war. The Kou Empire needed little provocation to start their wars against neighboring nations, anything was reason enough, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant.

It had come as something of a surprise for her father that the emperor had wanted to offer a daughter to one of his sons, but even more of one when the First Prince had learned Hákon had a daughter. The First Prince had offered the Third Prince instead, a boy of ten.

King Hákon had relayed this information to her when she'd been angry over his absence. Learning he had agreed to marry her off to the Kou Empire had infuriated her. She hadn't been able to stand being in the same room as him, so she'd left it in tears. She hadn't gone off to her bedroom to cry about being married off because she had remembered her mother telling her to think about their country. She had always known that someone would show up with an offer that her father would not refuse and that she'd be married. She had known that her relationship with Johan had no future, though she continued to dream that it did. Asta had gone to cry because when she had brought up her mother's funeral and her father had dismissed it. He had done it so easily.

"That isn't important, Asta," he had snapped, and his words had echoed in her mind, increasing in loudness. "You are to be married! To a Kou Empire prince! You don't understand how fortunate we are!"

She'd never felt so insulted.

Once the engagement between Asta and Prince Kouha of the Kou Empire had been made official, Johan had proposed they run away. The idea hadn't crossed her mind until he had mentioned it.

Asta remembered him, watching his determined face harden while he had explained how they would make it into a trade ship without rousing suspicions, and it saddened her greatly. It'd been a perfect plan. She hadn't cared about anything so long as Johan could be in her future. She had agreed because she felt she had no choice but to accept. She believed the sacrifice had to be made to prove to the world that they were in love. She had hoped her mother would forgive her for not thinking about the suffering people of Ione.

She'd felt a spark of excitement as the day of their departure approach. She'd spent several nights packing a bag full of clothes, only her favorites, and had included what she'd believed were her most expensive pieces of jewelry to sell on the road if the need ever arose.

Asta was in Johan's strong arms when the doors of her bedroom were forced open, startling them apart. Johan pushed her towards the bed, standing between her and the Ionian soldiers spilling into her bedroom with their weapons drawn. A senior officer made his way to the forefront carrying an envelope, prompting Johan to draw his sword to keep him from moving any further. The senior officer broke the envelope's seal, holding the letter up for them to see.

She gasped when she realized it was an arrest warrant with Johan's name signed by her father. "No!"

"Arrest him," the senior officer ordered.

"Stop!" she ordered, throwing herself between the soldiers and Johan, pushing his hand down so he lowered his sword. "What are the charges?"

"Treason," the senior officer answered, bushy eyebrows drawn together.

Asta turned to Johan, staring at his beautiful, baffled face. "I haven't done anything, I swear, Asta," he said, reaching out to take her by the arm when another hand seized her wrist, jerking her away from him. Johan looked to her pleadingly. "I haven't!"

She was too stunned to speak, but she knew he wasn't culpable of any crime, let alone treason. He had always been loyal to her country, but she couldn't do anything.

The soldiers took the opportunity to overpower Johan while his guard was lowered. Asta was pulled into the arms of a soldier, struggling against the tight hold, and watched as Johan was shoved to the ground face first, beaten bloody even after his arms had been tied behind his back.

"Don't hurt her!" he shouted before a soldier took his head and slammed it to the floor again. His face came up bloody, nose crooked.

"Stop!" Asta cried, tears running down her face. Her heart raced, aching in her chest. She'd been helpless. "Don't hurt him!"

Johan managed to grab a hold of a soldier, dragging him to the ground where he'd been able to punch him. However, another soldier hit him with the hilt of his sword, knocking him unconscious.

Asta slammed her fisted hand on the arm holding her. "Stop this! Stop this now!" she continued to shout. "I order you to stop! Please! Please stop!"

"Take her!" the senior officer demanded.

Asta was dragged out screaming and thrown into a room where she remained locked inside for hours. She pounded on the oak door until her fists were bruised and bloodied. She kicked it until her feet ached and screamed until her voice went out.

Her father was the one that released her. She stumbled to the ground before him, her bloody hands staining the floor underneath her, and lifted her eyes to him. "He's innocent," she cried, reaching out to grab the bottom of his pants. "Father, he's innocent."

"I know," her father replied evenly.

Asta stared at him wide-eyed. "What?"

"We cannot do anything that displeases the Kou Empire, Asta," he said. "You've had your fun and now it is done. You will be married to the Kou's prince."

Running away had been her last chance at happiness with Johan and it had led to his imprisonment. Asta cursed herself. She was at fault. She shouldn't have accepted his proposition. She should have called it crazy and dismissed it. She should have dismissed him. Oh, but she had so badly wanted to run away with him.

She needed to save him now.

"I'll marry that prince, I won't fight it, I promise," she said quickly. "I'll marry him, just let Johan go."

"That would be impossible."

"Why?"

King Hákon took her by the arm and gently lifted her back onto her feet. "He's dead."

Asta's legs turned to jelly. She would have sunken to the ground had it not been for her father holding her up. She shoved against him, but he only embraced her as she cried, shouting incoherently. The sobbing made it impossible for her to form a proper sentence without it breaking apart.

"You need to understand," her father comforted, tightening his hold around her. "You would have never stopped meeting Johan if he stayed alive. You'd always be tempted to run off. You'd leave me. You'd leave this country." He kissed the side of her head, crushing her against his chest. Her fisted hands were digging into her own ribcage. "It will be fine, Asta. It'll pass. You truly believe this was love? It wasn't. That Johan seduced you. You are only a child. He didn't care. You didn't know better. He took advantage of that, of your naivety. He wanted this kingdom, Asta."

She cried harder. "You're lying!"

Her father pulled back to look into her eyes. "Would I lie to you, Asta?" he asked, leaning down to kiss her cheek. "You are my daughter, my only child. You are all I have left of your mother. This heartbreak of yours, it will pass. Time will show you this was not love, just infatuation."

It didn't get better. It got worse.

The following morning she was surprised by several attendants carrying a selection of beautiful dresses. Asta recognized the rituals that went hand in hand to prepare a bride for marriage. She had been taken to a bathhouse and her circlet had been taken, wrapped up by her attendants into a nice piece of silk to be preserved and passed down to her daughter. She had been dressed, her hair had been brushed and styled neatly, and her face had been cleaned repeatedly because of all the crying she had been doing.

Asta was married to a prince from the Kou Empire that afternoon, though he was absent from the ceremony. There was a stand-in, an envoy from his country accepted his vows to her on the prince's behalf because he had been too caught up in Kou Empire business to make the trip down to Ione.

By the time the marriage contract had been finalized with her signature, Asta was numbed to the pain. She heard Johan's body would be burned and buried in a grave in the province where he was born. She wasn't allowed to see his body. Her father had taken care of locking her in her room. He had posted guards everywhere to make sure she didn't find a way out, but she hadn't possessed the energy to get out. She had stayed in bed, crying into her pillow, feeling the weight of her own guilt start to crush her.

She was numb to it now.

Asta slipped her husband's wedding band inside a small velvet bag and gave it to the envoy, so he could take it to the Kou Empire.

"Would you like me to give him a message?" the envoy asked.

Her father's eyes were trained on her, waiting on her response.

She put on her best smile, though her eyes were red and puffy from crying, and said, "Tell him to stay safe."

"And?" her father urged.

"And that I hope to meet him soon," she added, earning a pleased grin from her father.

Asta wanted so badly to be with her mother as the people celebrated her wedding, even in her husband's absence. She sat alone atop a dais, behind a heavy table overflowing with food, feeling empty and utterly alone.

der y run Prince Kouha had been made official, rtunate we are!"

ad done it so easily. "That isn't imp

{ **iii** }

Shortly after her marriage to the Kou Empire's prince, Kouha, Asta had been assigned a caretaker called Lady Bo, a long, thin woman from the Kou Empire that promised, upon making her acquaintance, that she would turn her into a real princess, one that would not shame her husband's country.

Lady Bo had begun her tyranny by throwing out many of her dresses and replacing them with the Kou's traditional clothes, which were beautiful, flowing robes of varying prints and colors, but Asta preferred her clothes. Lady Bo had subjected Asta to several hours of lessons on how to sit, walk, and present herself. It had even gotten to the point that Lady Bo criticized the way she ate, what she ate, deeming it all inappropriate.

Asta's father had given Lady Bo many liberties inside the castle that she had the power to fire the cooks in their kitchens, disregarding the fact that they had been there for ages and just as talented as the replacements she brought. Lady Bo had succeeded in changing Asta's diet to ensure she gained a little more weight, but not grow overweight. She had not considered herself scrawny, like Lady Bo had made it seem, but Lady Bo had set out to find fault in everything about her, from her hair being too pale blond, to her body type not being feminine enough, to her footsteps being too heavy—pleasing Lady Bo would have been impossible as herself. Lady Bo had made that abundantly clear, but Asta had only to remind herself about the people of Ione.

She had never allowed herself to feel miserable because of her marriage because it had saved her people. The Kou Empire had sent more than Lady Bo, it had brought great changes that helped her suffering country. Within the year, they had returned to being a functioning country, even the metalwork, which had been rare, had increased.

Asta had been willing to learn all that Lady Bo taught her because of her country, even though she had suffered losses to make it there. Her relationship with her father had broken, Johan had been killed, Brita had been replaced by Lady Bo, and she had lost her mother.

And the sadness? She had gotten used to it. It had blended into her daily life, she had grown accustomed to wearing it like a second skin, feeling the aches in her chest less and less before they multiplied and threatened to drown her in sorrow. She'd only need a moment for it to all pass. She had no room to feel depressed.

Asta would be meeting her husband for the first time since they had been married. The meeting had been scheduled a month prior.

"It will be brief," Lady Bo had informed her. "The prince is a busy man and he is expected to return home as soon as your marriage has been consummated, lest the union be broken by law."

Asta had been a bit concerned with what the duties might be like for an eleven-year-old boy, which had kept him so busy. Of course, that had been the least of her worries. She had qualms about the consummating part, most involved having no interest in doing so. She had imagined her father had talked about including a condition that required the boy to reach adulthood before they'd be allowed to consummate their marriage, but it seemed he hadn't.

"Is it appropriate for us to consummate the marriage?" Asta had asked. "Isn't he a bit young?"

"It is perfectly appropriate," Lady Bo had responded. "Age has nothing to do with it."

She had begun to devise a plan to stop the consummation from taking place. She'd figured she could offer to play a game with the boy instead; perhaps she would take him hunting, too. There had been plenty of game in the forest and she hadn't had the opportunity to go because Lady Bo had forbidden it, saying she needed to learn proper etiquette before she went off and did anything that fun.

"But you must use your time wisely," Lady Bo had stressed. "Your husband will only be present for a fortnight. You must secure your position by providing him an heir."

Lady Bo had made it abundantly clear that she expected Asta to be pregnant after her husband's visit concluded and Asta had humored her. It'd always been easier for Asta to remain in Lady Bo's good graces. If Lady Bo was happy, Asta could do a lot more of what she liked than when her caretaker was upset.

Asta was startled awake by a horde of Lady Bo's underlings on the morning her husband was scheduled to arrive in Ione. All of them poured into her room, stripped her of the blankets, opened the windows, and started tugging off her sleeping robes before she left her bed.

She stood in front of them groggily, having spent the entire night reading stacks of paperwork related to the new laws being implemented within her kingdom. Within the last year, Ione had faced the threat of invasion and her father had gone to placate it, but it'd been a trap. Asta had been grateful that her father had been so paranoid as to take half the army with him because it had meant fewer soldiers were posted around the castle watching her. He had been at war since, so he'd left her in charge. She hadn't yet grown accustomed to the changes her marriage to the Kou Empire's Third Prince had brought, but she'd tried not to mind it. She appreciated that her people had been able to live comfortably that past year.

Lady Bo entered in her colorful robes, snapping her fingers to dismiss the other girls, who finished putting her in traditional clothes. "Look delighted," she said. "He's already arrived."

"Will he want to see me?" Asta asked, attempting to sound enthusiastic.

"What do you suppose? He will," Lady Bo said. "He needs to meet his wife."

"Good," she replied. "I need to meet my husband. I wonder if he's brought him."

Lady Bo frowned. "Remember not to speak to your husband in that manner."

"I'm a queen," Asta said, turning to face the mirror to tuck the loose strands of her hair behind her ears. "He is only a prince." She paused as the Lady Bo took offense, face turning red, and laughed. "I promise not to speak to him in any manner that is appropriate. Only inappropriately."

"Princess!" Lady Bo exclaimed. "You are a princess! Know your place!"

Asta wondered if she would catch that. She was happy that she had because it wouldn't have been as funny if she hadn't. "Okay, only improperly."

"Stop your slouching!" Lady Bo commanded, smacking her back. She came to stand behind Asta. "You know what you must do?" She tightened the sash around her waist until Asta started to feel lightheaded. "You must obey him. You must be charming, poised, entertaining. You must remember that you belong to him."

"And give him heirs," Asta added, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her pale hair was braided along the side of her head and knotted at the base of her neck. She looked presentable for the prince, but she didn't feel comfortable in the Kou Empire's traditional clothes.

She needed to find a way out of consummating the marriage. As ideas poured into her head, she wondered if it would be a terrible thing to knock her boy husband out or if alcohol was too much.

"Indeed," Lady Bo said. "Become worthy of standing beside him as his wife." The woman leaned forward, her pale face beside Asta's reflected in the mirror. "One day, you will become the empress of a great empire."

"What?" Asta turned to Lady Bo in confusion. The first thing she'd learnt about her husband was that he was the third prince. She had trouble believing she'd ever become empress of any great empire, not with the length of that succession line if one added the eldest princes' future children and their children's children. They'd never make it on the throne, even if they tried to poison them all.

"Lady Bo," an attendant called, distracting her caretaker from answering her confusion. "Prince Kouen is here. He wants to meet the princess for tea."

Lady Bo excitedly exited the room with the attendant following in tow.

Asta stared on in confusion. She didn't understand why Prince Kouen requested to meet her for tea. Had she done something wrong? Had he arrived to offer her a divorce? In that case, what did she do right?

Lady Bo reentered, her thin eyebrows drawn in irritation. "Well, what are you waiting there for? Come out here this instant!"

The second time Asta saw Prince Kouen she learned he was her husband as she sat down with him for tea. He hadn't changed much from the memory she had of him standing on the other side of the flower field, only that he was much taller than she'd imagined and a bit more intimidating in person.

"Remember to be appropriate," Lady Bo had stressed, seconds before Asta had learned the shocking truth. "Be polite and inviting. Be charming."

Asta wanted answers. She wanted to know why she had been promised to the Third Prince and ended up married to the First. Asking would be inappropriate. Lady Bo would have a fit if she asked about it.

So, Asta tried to resist the urge. They had not spoken a word since their introduction through Lady Bo, even then that conversation hadn't been stellar, not the least bit inviting either. She'd hear all about that later.

"I was under the impression my husband would be eleven," Asta said, polite as one could phrase that particular observation, Lady Bo be damned, "so, why did I get you?"

"Are you disappointed?" he asked, calm.

She should have listened to Lady Bo. "No?"

There was a pause, a lull that intensified the amount of discomfort she felt sitting at a long table across her husband, who turned out to be an adult, not a child like he was supposed to be. Not that she was looking forward to Prince Kouha, not after all that talk of consummation. Actually, staring at Prince Kouen made her stomach twist. She didn't want to think about consummating anything with that man either.

"I heard about your father," he started, meaning he heard about his stupid war.

"Oh."

She needed Lady Bo like a bad actor needed his lines fed to him from the sideline because she was feeling a little less like a princess and a bit more like a fish out of water. Her response invited another lengthy silence.

She wondered if she chanted Lady Bo's name long enough she'd show up.

"You do not plan to make conversation easy, do you, princess?"

"No," she blurted. "Can I be excused?"

"Go."

Asta wanted to say she left the room like a dignified princess, but she practically ran out and nearly rammed into Lady Bo, who was standing outside listening to the exchange judging by the disappointed death glare she received upon stumbling out.

"What is wrong with you?" Lady Bo demanded, whispering.

"I got nervous. I panicked. I ran." Asta nodded. "I run when I get nervous and panicked."

"Princesses don't panic and run!" she reprimanded, surprising Asta with her superb talent in being able to keep her voice so low yet convey such strong emotions of anger. "You go back in there and apologize to him! This instant!"

"But he told me to go," she reasoned.

"Go, now!"

Lady Bo shoved her back inside the room, bowing her way out with a prim smile on her thin face.

Asta faced Kouen's scrutiny with a bit of embarrassment. She lowered her head. "I apologize for my behavior," she said. "Can we try this again?

"Sit," he said, sitting rather laxly in his chair. He looked like he preferred to be anywhere other than with her in that room, which made two of them. She almost made it out, too.

She definitely didn't like being her at the moment. She needed to be someone else. She needed to be the impenetrable fortress that was Lady Bo.

Asta took her seat. Conversation was not her strongest point and there was nothing but the quiet in between them, which was not at all inviting, not like she was supposed to be. She didn't think she was inviting anything but silence. She wondered if that counted as inviting.

"So, I hear you like wars," Asta tried.

"And?"

Asta gave up, standing up. "Okay."

She could feel his eyes on the back of her head. She turned when she had her hand on the door. "So, I'll be seeing you tonight? Any requests?"

He stared blankly. "No."

Asta slipped out of the room, only to poke her head back in. "Where are my manners? Welcome to Ione," she said, smiling. "Please, enjoy your stay."

Outside, Lady Bo was fuming, but she wasn't completely disappointed with the outcome, which she expressed as they walked away from the room.

"At the very least he will be paying your bedchamber a visit," Lady Bo said. "You have not completely ruined everything."

"Do you think he would mind if I asked him not to wear anything?" Asta asked thoughtfully, earning a swift glare. "I don't think I'll find him as intimidating without clothes."

"Don't be insolent!" Lady Bo quickly ushered her towards the stairs where a horde of her underlings were waiting in the company of a few new faces she assumed had arrived with her husband. "We must prepare you for tonight. This night needs to end pleasantly!"

Asta was taken to the bathhouse where sat submerged in warm, oil-scented water surrounded by floating flower petals. She had been given the private bath, but she had Lady Bo and her attendants sitting in the stone benches around the pool of water accompanying her.

There was usually a single attendant present to help her in any possible way, but Asta had done this to herself when Lady Bo had confidently tried to send her off to the bathhouse, expecting her to be aware of what consummation meant.

Asta had wanted to torture her more and nodded, before she had said, "We'll have to tell the cooks to start working because they won't be done by nightfall."

"What?" Lady Bo had asked. "What do the cooks have to do with your wedding night?"

"Well, they're going to be the ones cooking all the cakes Prince Kouen and I will be consuming," she'd answered, innocently enough.

Lady Bo had fainted into the arms of her attendants, but she'd recovered quickly. "Cakes? You think you'll be eating cakes in that room?" she had cried, shrilly.

"That's what my mother told me," Asta had divulged. That hadn't been a lie. "My mother said that when a man and a woman get married, they go eat cakes together in their room. I hope they'll have something with blueberries in it, I'm really craving blueberries right now!"

"You won't be having any cakes!" Lady Bo had cried.

Asta swam around the large pool, listening to Lady Bo shushing her army of attendants after she finished speaking about intimacy.

"So, I'm just supposed to lie on my back, let him do everything," Asta responded.

"Yes."

"That sounds boring."

"It's not supposed to be fun!"

One of the girls snorted and Lady Bo turned to glare at her. The girl passed the sound off as if she had just been clearing her throat.

"I very much prefer the cake eating," Asta replied. "Do you think I could have some?"

"No," Lady Bo said, taking a towel from one of her girls. "Are you done?"

Asta quietly enjoyed the warm water, but she stalled enough. She climbed out of the basin and allowed Lady Bo to wrap the towel around her body as she held her hair up. Asta held the towel together with one hand, and with the other, she tried to squeeze the water out of her hair.

She was soon aided by Lady Bo's girls. One pulled her hair in another towel and started to dry it, another girl came up to help dry her body so she could get her into a thin robe. Once the robe was on and tied securely, Asta was escorted back to her chambers to be clothed.

Lady Bo stayed with her, providing further support, which in turn, made Asta more and more reluctant to go through with it. She could continue trying to make a joke out of it all, but it wouldn't make things better.

"Are you nervous, princess?" Lady Bo asked, intuitive as always.

"Yes."

Lady Bo poured her a fragrant tea. "This should help you relax. Drink it."

Asta took it, drinking it straight down like one would a shot of liquor. It burned all the way down and it only helped in making her stomach hurt.

Lady Bo was sitting at the end of the bed with Asta lying on her side, curled up and bored, as they waited for Prince Kouen to appear. Asta dreaded it so badly she wanted to ask Lady Bo to stay…or take her place.

"You finally calmed down, it helped resting your head," Lady Bo said knowledgably, but she hesitated in speaking. "You're in low spirits."

Asta shook her head. Even if she'd asked Lady Bo to help her postpone this day, she wouldn't. Her duty was to see that Asta was a fitting wife and that the marriage worked. That was Asta's job, too, but she needed more time. She couldn't do it. She'd panic. She'd likely run.

Lady Bo would lynch her if she found out she ran out on her wedding night.

"Good."

The door opened and Kouen entered. Lady Bo got on her feet, patting Asta on the hip, and exited with her head lowered.

Asta sat up, pulling her robes closed, as he approached her bedside. She felt her anxiety lead to her increased heartrate. She exhaled, her eyes rising, scanning the simple clothes he wore, to meet his eyes.

She didn't like his face, though it was not to say it wasn't a handsome one. It was serious and unexpressive. He made her feel uneasy in his presence. She felt small before him, insignificant. He cared about her as much as she cared about him. They were two strangers stuck together for life. She couldn't imagine it getting better.

There weren't any words to be exchanged. They wouldn't make the situation any better.

It hadn't been like she'd imagined with Johan. That had been magical.

This hurt. It was uncomfortable lying bare underneath his body, accommodating it between her legs, feeling him pressing against her inner thigh. She wasn't quite sure what she was supposed to do with her hands. She didn't know if kissing was appropriate. She hadn't though her pained noises were allowed, so she covered her mouth, finding a job for her hands.

She tried not to cry, but it started to feel like she was suffocating beneath his moving body, thrusting into her. It hurt the entire time.

Her insides were sore and she felt tired. She didn't understand how this was enjoyable to anyone as she gripped the sheets around her naked body, lying beside him, curled into herself after the consummation had been done. She couldn't imagine going through this again, not enough to ensure she was left pregnant.

Asta didn't dare move the entire time he was present. When he perceived her to be sleeping, she felt the bed rise as he got out of it and redressed. He moved quietly around her chambers, but she wasn't sure if he stayed or left. She fell asleep.

She startled awake after what felt like moments and lifted her head, searching the room. She found Kouen sitting at the table with one of her books, an old folklore book that had been given to her by her mother when she'd been a child so that she'd come to understand her roots.

Kouen looked up briefly, but continued reading.

Asta returned her head to the pillow, shuddering. She took all the blankets and hogged them since he didn't seem to be returning any time soon.

She hadn't even considered that he'd be spending the night, so much that it baffled her to find that he had the following morning when Lady Bo appeared to help her start her morning.

Lady Bo grinned. "I do think he looked quite pleased."

"You can tell?" She didn't think it possible for anyone to tell.

"He would not have stayed the night otherwise."

Asta grimaced. He probably spent the rest of the night reading, but she didn't want to destroy what little happiness the success of her wedding night had brought Lady Bo. She had probably been under the impression that there was enough consummation to last the night, but Asta had not been that determined to get pregnant.

Now that her marriage to Kouen was considered legitimate, she'd faster get out of it dead than using any other method. Actually, it didn't seem she would be able to get out of her marriage to Kouen unless she was dead.

"Come now, princess," Lady Bo said, pulling the blankets off her body. Asta pulled her drawn legs closer to her chest, keeping her arms folded over her naked breasts, feeling uncomfortable with her caretaker's steady gaze. "What is it, princess?"

"Can I just stay here a bit longer?" she asked, keeping her eyes on the sheets. She wanted to stay underneath the covers until everything stopped hurting. She just needed some time to process and get herself back up. She only needed another hour of silence to put it all behind her.

"Absolutely not! You have work to do!" Lady Bo snapped, striding to the windows to open them. She clapped her hands and the doors opened to several of her attendants. "Prepare a bath for the princess."

But she'd never get the reprieve she so desired.

* * *

><p><strong>xl's comment corner<strong>:  
>- Can I just say how annoying I found editing this chapter? I mean it was my own fault for writing this differently, then changing my mind when I was halfway done. I had to go back and change tenses.<br>- I had this image of Asta being a super uptight princess as ambitions as her father (not in the same regard, though) where you believed she could overthrow her father and restore Ione to it's awesomeness, but then this Asta was born. She's a teenager. She's a dreamer. She's a bit awkward. She tries hard. She's playful. So, I feel this was a good introduction to her even though I wanted to do more.  
>- Asta is 17 at the end of this. Kouen is like...20-21ish, 22ish at this point? So, this is pre-canon. I haven't figured out if I want to tie this into canon yet. I'll give you an accurate age for Kouen when I find my notes. (I lost my notes again, how shocking.)<br>- I am angry at all the adults in this story, except Lady Bo.  
>- I love Lady Bo.<br>- I hope that the day comes when Asta gives Kouen a run for his money.

Overall, I hope you enjoyed this. If this is as far as you're going, I posted a preview for the next chapter at my livejournal, you can find a link to it on my profile.

So, I was going to write this super drawn out, awkward sex, but went with this because super drawn out, awkward sex comes later when they actually like each other. I'm lying to you. It won't be drawn out. Just awkward. Strange and awkward. It will be so not sexy. Not even Kouen's good looks will be able to salvage the disaster that it is going to be.

Of maybe I'm lying to you still and it'll be disgustingly cute.

- Is this format too much? Or are you enjoying it?


	2. 01 Bone Dust - Kouen

**BONE DUST** | REN KOUEN

{ **i** }

The first time Prince Kouen saw the Princess of Ione was when a Kou Empire envoy was escorting him back to his ship. He'd been sent to meet King Hákon of Ione about creating an alliance, as several nations had before his. Ione had garnered a reputation for having a vast, powerful army—a prospect which had caught the Emperor's eye. Adding Ione's army to the Kou Empire's had advantageous potential if they were as bloodthirsty as their war history painted them.

Kouen had been surprised to find King Hákon willing to accept the offer given to him without any consideration as to how doing so might benefit his country. They hadn't discussed politics or policies and the king had only asked one thing of him.

"Would my daughter be protected?"

"Yes."

King Hákon had nodded. "Excellent. Excellent."

"The Emperor has offered your son pick of any of the unwed princesses of our country," Kouen had proposed.

King Hákon had looked to him, confused. "Princesses?"

"For your son."

"You are mistaken," King Hákon had said. "My wife bore me no sons, only a daughter."

Kouen had shaken off the realization. "For yourself," he had corrected. "I heard you are without a queen."

"That wouldn't do," King Hákon had said. "We should be realistic. I'm too close to death. Your empire won't benefit."

"Why?" he'd asked.

"Ione is a queendom," King Hákon had explained. "I've brought change to the country after my wife had taken the throne. She'd been too soft, too idealistic. She didn't believe in war. She planned to leave us defenseless, so I did what needed to be done." He had grown fanatical as he had continued his elucidation. "It had taken time for me to gain approval from the Ionian House of Nobles to strip her of her power, but I had done it and they had no say in my actions." He had snapped towards Kouen, the man had seemed crazed. Pacing back and forth, disheveled and seeming to not have slept in weeks, the King of Ione had seemed a shadow of what Kouen had learned prior to accepting to make the voyage. "They plan to use my daughter to take back the kingdom, hoping she can return it to what it used to be. But we can't have that. We can't have that at all. We can prevent it. Marry her off, have her husband do the same as I did. There are other princes in the Kou Empire. Marry her to one, it doesn't matter whom. You take her power and the kingdom is yours to do with as you wish."

"And you would not care what becomes of Ione?" Kouen had asked.

"I've heard of the Kou Empire and your conquests. Your might is enviable," King Hákon had said, looking to him head on. The king was a tall, blond man with deep-set eyes and sharp cheekbones; seeming to exude a more powerful presence in the instances that he had been lucid. "Even if I had gathered every man and woman in this country to fight against your empire, we would fall. I'd be laughable and a stain upon our reputation. We have not known defeat in years and it has been our greatest shame. Your Kou Empire will undoubtedly continue to expand. You would have come here regardless, on good or bad terms. I'd rather Ione willingly join your efforts than fight against them to know shame, I have my pride as king. Surely, we share similar ideals. We worship power. Ione can add to your power, yes. It could triple the might of your own army, Prince Kouen."

"The Third Prince," he had offered. "He should do."

The king had nodded. "Yes, that will do," he had said, pacing again, his lucidity gone. "How old is he, this Third Prince."

"Ten."

"Yes, yes, that is good, not too young, not too old," the king had continued. "Do you trust he would make a good king, even in his young age?"

He had trust enough in Kouha that he could, so he had answered, "Yes."

The king had been pleased, but continued his pacing. It'd proven troublesome to speak to him after, the king had seemed distracted, so Kouen had left instruction with his attendant about the aid the Kou Empire was willing to provide before he left the castle.

Despite Ione's military power, it had been notorious for being in severe debt because of it. Their streets were littered with famine and death. Only those of higher status and in the military possessed the means to survive while those below them suffered. There had been a quick decline since King Hákon decided to invest his kingdom's wealth on a stronger military. It had worked, but his rule had become problematic. Everything had started making sense as Kouen had listened to the king's elucidations on the matter. He'd learned the Ionian House possessed some degree of power to overturn the current monarch's orders, but they'd been disbanded since Hákon had taken the crown from his wife and were sitting idle until they'd be able to reform under the next monarch, Hákon's daughter.

The Princess of Ione was standing in a field with one of her slaves, the two carrying a bundle of flowers in their arms. She was young, an unremarkable sight, slightly bedraggled in a white dress with muddied skirts. She wore a gilt circlet around her head with her pale, blond hair falling in shallow waves across her back. She possessed a sophisticated face with strong cheekbones, sharp blue eyes—reddened and puffy from her grief—and full lips. She seemed thin beneath her flowing dress, lacking in obvious feminine charm, but she was young.

She had the potential to grow. She wasn't hideous either.

"She is the most beautiful woman in Ione," the envoy whispered to him, "and the most powerful."

He didn't see powerful when he looked at her. He saw she was delicate like the white flowers around her, capable of withering if one did not care for her properly.

"What do you think?" asked the envoy. "Do you think she is a suiting bride for Prince Kouha?"

"She will do."

The princess turned furiously, stomping around ripping flowers at random as she shouted at her slave, words that didn't reach him. So, he walked on ahead of the envoy.

"We will have to find a way to ensure, Kouha ends up with control of the country," Kouen added, long after he had boarded the ship to return to the Kou Empire. King Hákon hadn't divulged how he had managed to accomplish taking his wife's power, though Kouen had attempted to coax the answer from him. "The crown will pass to her directly after her father dies."

"It's only a matter of keeping her from restoring the Ionian House's power," the envoy responded. "If that can be prevented, she should be easy to control."

The image of that scrawny, blond haired girl flashed into his head. There had been nothing remarkable about her. She seemed weak, emotional, and easily swayed, but he had no reason to assume she would be all of those things. Not when the envoy had referred to as being the most powerful.

"What is she like?" Kouen asked.

"The princess?" the envoy asked. Kouen nodded. "She is…a bit of a mystery."

"Nothing like her father at the very least?"

"Definitely not like her father."

If anything, Kouha might find her amusing.

{ **ii** }

Although, Ione's king expressed his loyalty to the Kou Empire, it needed to be tested. One of its neighboring kingdoms had been chosen, a kingdom known predominantly for its trade in textiles and for the kindness and support it had extended to King Hákon. Baryon had been one of Ione's remaining friendships.

Kouen had wanted to see the extent of King Hákon's loyalty. It might have seemed cruel, but it'd ultimately prove whether the king was worthy of their trust or not. The kings of most countries they had subjugated were untrustworthy, so the Kou Empire gained support by assimilating their people into their culture, giving them a feel of what it was like under better conditions. Once that was done, they'd only need to remove previous kings, and overtime, the country would have forgotten what they were like before.

Ione would be the same as all those other little kingdoms that had been brought under the Kou Empire through political marriage. Even then, it'd been different. It'd conceded quite willingly and Kouen had found it suspicious.

Kouen sent the command to King Hákon. If Hákon refused to invade his allies in the Kou Empire's behalf, Kouen would overthrow him himself.

King Hákon responded promptly, offering his army to the cause on the condition that his daughter and Kouha's wedding be held within the week. It had been several months since they had come to the agreement of a marriage, one that both the emperor and empress approved, though it had been assumed that the wedding would be postponed until Kouha was of an appropriate age.

"I doubt he would care if he was marrying his daughter to an infant," Kouen remarked, staring at the letter before him. The decision was left for him to make.

"You can easily overthrow Ione with half of your army," his brother, Koumei, said, standing to his left.

Overthrow it with half his army, but triple it if he accepts Hákon's conditions. Ione would definitely be his easiest conquest and possibly his most advantageous move. Ione sat surrounded by sea, in between larger conquests that he had already considered. He wouldn't need to move as much, simply order the Ionian army to go forward and bring more nations under his control.

Ione had potential.

The question was trust.

"I'll marry the princess," Kouen decided, surprising Koumei.

"You will?"

"It will be easier this way."

Kouen sent word to Hákon, agreeing to his terms.

On the day he married the princess of Ione, he was in the middle of a war, so he was unable to travel to Ione to attend his own ceremony. He ordered an envoy to go in his place, but mostly to make sure King Hákon held up his end of their bargain. If he hadn't, there had been fleets of battleships surrounding Ione, prepared to invade, but it had been unnecessary.

King Hákon took his army and betrayed his oldest ally by waging war against them. The king was said to have commanded his own army, gone straight to the frontlines and that he had taken down hundreds of men before he had been wounded.

"They say he continued to fight until all the enemies in sight had been defeated," the Kou Empire's envoy recapped. Kouen had returned to the capital after he had come out of his own war victorious. The conflict in Baryon had not lasted long, not long since it had begun, so he had heard. "He does not seem to be in any life-threatening danger, I heard it was a minor injury."

The envoy returned to the Kou Empire after learning Kouen would be present to deliver this information.

Kouen nodded, then dismissed him.

"My prince, I almost forgot," the envoy started apologetically, holding out a small velvet bag for him to take. "The princess asks that you remain safe and that she hopes to meet you soon."

"How did she seem?" Kouen asked, taking a gold band from within the velvet bag. He slipped it on his finger, figuring it was a small price to pay for more power.

"Much like the first time you saw her," the envoy responded. "A good friend of hers was found guilty of treason and executed the day before the ceremony."

Once the envoy left him, Kouen attempted to recall the state he had found her the first time he seen her, but nothing came to mind. If one asked him to describe the Princess of Ione, he wouldn't have been able to paint a clear picture, as she had been a blur in his memory, one without a name.

{ **iii** }

The second time Kouen saw the Princess of Ione, she was being escorted into his chambers dressed in traditional clothes fitting for a Kou princess by a woman Gyokuen thought fit to educate her, shortly after learning she had been surrounded by her mother and slaves growing up.

Having the Ionian princess before him triggered the memory of seeing her standing in a field of white flowers with her slave. She matured slightly since he last saw her, looked a little more put together than the bedraggled thing he recalled, which had seemed more insane than the alternative. She stared up at him in silence as her caretaker formally introduced the two.

The young princess did not look away from his face, not even when her caretaker whispered encouragement to her before leaving. She had likely been asked to be polite and inviting, to be charming, and the princess had done the opposite, staring up at him rudely and in silence. She didn't ooze an ounce of charm, either.

So, he invited her to sit.

Kouen learned after stepping off his ship at port that King Hákon had not yet returned from his war. Kouen had sent him to take another island for Ione after he had come out victorious in occupying Baryon, which had been a little riotous due to the recent overthrow and under the current control of an Ionian commander and his five-thousand-strong unit. As Kouen had made his way to the stone castle on the hill to meet his wife, he had observed changes within Ione. Nobody had seemed to be starving and they were all dressed in uniform according to their status when they had appeared to see the face of their princess' new husband, welcoming him.

Ione had been divided into nine provinces with each territory governed by a member of the Ionian House of Nobles and each specialized in something that aided in the success of the kingdom, which had made it easier for them to adjust to the new system.

He knew the princess held the power in her father's absence as he watched her from his seat across the long table. Ione's castle sat isolated atop a hilltop in the center of the kingdom. It was a menacing place to behold, tall and sturdy made of black stone. The interior was dark and dreary, the cold penetrating.

The princess sat in her seat fidgeting, as if struggling with the words she wanted to speak. He waited for her to say something wondering what it might be.

"I was under the impression that my husband would be eleven," she said bluntly, "so, why did I get you?"

She surprised him. "Are you disappointed?"

"No?"

She hesitated before answering his question. He didn't know what to say to that, so he decided he should think of something else to help start a conversation. He was growing tired of watching her fidget nervously in her seat. He wondered if it even was the nerves compelling her to move around so much. Perhaps, it was that she was young that she couldn't sit still, or maybe it was a lack of discipline and that caretaker Gyokuen sent needed to be replaced.

Either way, this was dragging out more that it needed to be. He wanted to see if there was anything in his new wife to enjoy and make their marriage bearable, but had found nothing in the eternity they had already spent together in that cold room. And he was supposed to remain in Ione for two weeks.

"I heard about your father," he started, leaving the sentence hanging as bait. He thought she might go into the kingdom affairs since she had been left in charge of everything, which would be an easier exchange for him to have, particularly if she was smart enough to hold her own.

"Oh."

Kouen blinked. That was it. That was all she said. Oh. As if he stated a fact, well it was a fact, but that wasn't the point. The idea was that she needed to take the bait and talk.

He suppressed the urge to cover his face with his hand and sigh. He didn't know what was wrong with this girl.

"You do not plan to make conversation, do you, princess?" he asked, feeling a bit annoyed.

"No," she blurted, her hands on the arms of her chair. "Can I be excused?"

He gestured her out. "Go."

And he watched her go, half-running, half-stumbling out of the room, slamming the door behind her. He heard the sound of her caretaker yelp and the princess' apologies. The two women shared a quick exchange before the door opened a second time and the princess appeared after being shoved inside. Behind her, the caretaker bowed her way past the door's threshold with a tight smile on her face, sealing the entrance shut.

Kouen stared at the girl, standing there with enough decency to look embarrassed as she lowered her head. "I apologize for my behavior," she said politely. "Can we try this again?"

"Sit," he said again, leaning back in his seat. He wondered how this would go, given how the first time went.

She stared at the table's surface intently before she finally looked at him. "So, I heard you like wars."

"And?"

The princess frowned, standing up noisily, the chair scrapping against the floor. "Okay."

She didn't even try.

Why did he expect she would even try?

The princess went straight for the door, turning once she reached it with her hand on the handle ready to exit. "So, I'll be seeing you tonight?" she asked casually. "Any requests?"

"No."

She exited the room, returning a second after. "Where are my manners?" she said, berating herself. Her blue eyes met his face, settled there as she forced a smiled. "Welcome to Ione. Please enjoy your stay."

Kouen sighed as he ran his hand down his face. What was wrong with her?

He wasn't sure how he'd get around handling tonight after that terrible conversation. Would this be what the rest of their lives were going to be like? Or had she simply been acting this way because she'd expected a boy? Did her father withhold that piece of information? Had it been for some special reason or had he simply forgotten?

He stopped making more questions, knowing they would likely be left unanswered, and stood. He felt he needed to prepare himself mentally if tonight would be like this moment—odd, confusing, and dull.

Kouen didn't see her until that night. He found her in the company of her caretaker. The thin, raven-haired woman quickly exited, walking past him and taking the door from him to close it behind her. The princess was already lying on the bed, but she rose onto a seat, pulling together the simple white robe she wore to keep it from falling apart.

She stared up at him intently and for the first time he noticed the dust of freckles on her face stretching over her nose to just beneath her eyes, light against her skin tone that they were hard to miss. Perhaps, she was trying to prepare herself for what was to come. It showed that this was the first time she'd be intimate with a man. She visibly shook. She acted nervous, clumsy. When he reached to push her gently onto the bed, she slipped and fell onto it fully, gripping her robe so tightly that her knuckles blanched. She moved back as he put his knee atop the mattress to climb over her.

He thought he should be gentle. He could do that much for the young princess. He should have kissed her, but he thoughtlessly reached for her hands, tugging until she released her clothes. She looked a bit startled, but sank into the bed, slowly lowering her hands to her sides to let him do as he pleased.

She seemed small lying there with her face turned, eyes sealed shut, and her pale hair sitting around her head. Every inch of her tensed as he untied the sash around her waist, pushing the fabric off her shoulders and exposing her naked body to him. She hesitated before covering her breasts and pressed her knees together, swallowing hard.

He looked at her bare, her skin alabaster, her body curved slightly at her waist and flared at her hips, her legs were long, strong, and toned, which surprised him because she seemed like she didn't do much, and her breasts were pert, small, and hidden behind her hands. She flushed, her cheeks turning pink.

Her skin was warm against his cold touch and smooth. It made her wince.

He couldn't have done anything to make her feel comfortable. It was the same for him. Coaxing her and preparing her took up a lot of time, but her body was responsive. It was willing to adjust to his size, though it was hard and a bit painful at times, even for him. He tried to be gentle, moving slowly to help her get used to it, but she only covered her mouth to keep her pained noises from spilling.

She stared at him with her blue eyes full of tears, but she never shed them. He felt that he was crushing her because she looked so delicate underneath him, like she might break if he pushed too hard. He tried not to touch her, certain she would bruise easily.

He managed somehow. He made her his. The marriage was official.

She turned over after, pulling the sheets over her body and curling underneath them.

Kouen sat in bed next to her, waiting for her breathing to even. Only when it had he had been tempted to move. He left her side, tugging his clothes on, and moved through her room. The sleek bow hanging from the wall caught his eye and he went to it, noting it sported consistent use, which made him question whether it belonged to his wife. Directly underneath it he found a quiver leaning against the wall, though it was empty. He continued looking.

He glimpsed in her direction, lying there sleeping on a bed too large for her. Beside the bed he found a short shelf full of books, which he thought was a little unexpected. He went to it and searched the shelf, recognizing a few titles before he came upon an old tome full of Ionian folklore. He pulled it out, taking it with him to the round table across the bed and sat.

He barely opened the book when he heard the princess make a sound. He met her gaze briefly, then returned to the book.

She fell asleep shortly after.

Kouen ended up reading for too long and decided to sleep in the room.

He woke up before her the following morning and left the room, encountering a frazzled soldier as he was about to knock.

"Is something the matter?" asked Kouen.

"We received war from the commander in Baryon," the soldier said nervously, "about the king."

"Did something happen to the king?"

"The king is dead."

"Has it been confirmed?" Kouen demanded, startling the soldier.

"Yes, it has. He fell in battle," the soldier divulged, "and the war is still going. The commander asked me to deliver the message to the princess and I…"

"I'll tell the princess," he said before he dismissed him.

Kouen found one of his own soldiers and sent him off to gather others to take to Ione's current battlefield in Corrin to help turn the tide. If the king fell, the army would lose their incentive to fight and if that happened, they would suffer losses too early on.

He appeared to have arrived to Ione at a good time, now that his young wife had suddenly become queen.

* * *

><p><strong>xl comment corner<strong>:  
>- Asta's dad is like the fucking worst, but he's dead now...or is he? Dun, dun, dun.<br>- Damn it, Kouen, I will write you how I see fit! I swear I wrote and edited this chapter with only one thought in mind, "He'd doesn't need to jump fucking hoops, he's fucking Prince Kouen, he conquers shit!" So, yeah. Whatever. I'm working at an angle here. I'm sorry.  
>- I hope you all noticed that Kouen has no idea what his wife's name is.<br>- Oh my god, what have I done?

If you've started off with Kouen's chapter and are curious to read Asta's, click the previous button. If not, there's a preview up for the next chapter on my livejournal, which is linked on my profile. All you have to do is scroll down.

- Comments on the format? Too confusing? Good so far? You can comment on other stuff, too.


	3. 02 Ash Field - Asta

**ASH FIELD** | IO ASTA

{ **i** }

"Your new apartments have been prepared," announced Lady Bo. The thin woman paced around the wooden tub where Asta sat soaking in lukewarm water, the suds fading slowly into the surface. "They're located in the eastern wing of the castle. I have already asked for your things to be taken into your new boudoir." Her jet-black hair was tied in a tight bun at the top of her head, stretching the skin tight over her angular face. Her narrow eyes were a muted brown shade in the presence of the shadows in her room. She was a matured woman, though her skin was flawlessly sleek, with an air of sophistication expected from someone titled. "Is there anything you wish to take from this room?"

Asta did not lift her eyes from the water's shimmering surface. "The books in the shelf, the bow and quiver, and the mirror."

The bow and quiver she had received as a gift from Werner, the current senior commander of Ione's military, after she had expressed her interest in joining his hunting trips with her father. It had been her first hunting bow.

The books held special meaning in that they had been given to her as she had grown older by her mother, who had loved to read and had wanted to share the world of literature to her less enthused daughter. She had never quite appreciated the books until her death. Admittedly, she had not read any of them until after her mother's passing. Finishing each one had been difficult, as every time she had, she had hated that she had not read them as she had received them. She had wanted to share her thoughts about each one with her mother.

She inherited the mirror from her mother. A full-length mirror surrounded by flowers elegantly carved into the blackwood. She had seen her mother stand before it hundreds of times tucking the loose strands of her hair, adjusting the skirts of her dress, staring fondly back at her in the reflection with a smile.

"Fu, pack the books in a sturdy container," ordered Lady Bo. One of the many attendants at her command stepped forward, a girl with her brown hair braided down her back, nodding. The girl went straight for a small, wide chest sitting in front of the window and bent down in front of the bookshelf beside the canopy where she started to organize everything neatly. "Hua, you will take the bow and quiver to the new apartments in the east wing and ask for help in transporting the mirror, as well as the books."

A second attendant moved out of the crowd of uniformly dressed girls, making a beeline to her treasured hunting bow. The girl walked with enviable grace, her face fine, and her eyes black.

Hua exited the room with the bow and quiver in hand.

Fu finished her job promptly, but unable to lift the chest with the combined weight of the books, she left it on the floor while asking for the aid of a soldier posted outside. The soldier entered with his eyes glued to the ground, despite the fact that the rest of Lady Bo's attendants had lined up around Asta's tub to shield her from his view.

"You have soaked long enough, princess," Lady Bo decided, extending her hand in the direction of her attendants. "Towel."

A towel was placed in her hands and she unfolded it, extending it wide to wrap it around Asta's shoulders. Asta pulled her body out of the tub while holding onto the edges, pushing against it to pick herself up. She ached. Her entire being was sore. The warmth of the water alleviated her tingling skin. It helped her remember what it was like to feel normal.

Lady Bo gently pulled the towel around Asta, helping her dry herself. "Once you are dressed, I will accompany you so that you may acquaint yourself with the new apartments," she said, sounding excited. "The room is larger than this one, less crowded."

Normally, new apartments were prepared before a wedding ceremony, but because Asta's engagement and marriage had been quick, everything else had been pushed back until the contract with the Kou Empire had been finalized.

The eastern wing of the castle required some remodeling and a thorough cleaning, as it had been used mostly for storage after her mother's death, though her mother had only occupied the tower's apartments during her isolation. The guest quarters were located in the western wing where the king's apartments were located. The stone castle's west wing was always in use, while the east wing was left to grow cold, dusty, and full of cobwebs. She heard the wooden furnishings rotted, the decorative gold and silver lost its splendor to accumulated grime, and the tapestries ruined by age. For a whole year, she had watched armies of servants enter the shadowy eastern wing through a pair of heavy arched doors with determination and had observed the same people emerge late in the afternoon exhausted and covered from head to toe in dirt, dust, or spider webs.

Lady Bo had promised that the new apartments would be completed before the arrival of her husband, but something had prevented their completion, despite her knowledge that every bit of new furniture and tapestries had been added. Later, Asta had learned from Lady Bo's attendants that several servant quarters and guest rooms had been spruced up to accommodate Kouen's company, as well as the round-the-clock guards assigned to protect them. She had assumed that had been the cause for the delay.

Asta glimpsed at her bed as the attendants helped her dress for the day: covering her naked form with a white shift, lacing up her corset, and finally tugged a simple moss green dress on her slight frame. Two attendants took care of combing the tangles from her hair before arranging it neatly into a several small knots at the back of her head.

"Thank you," she said, smiling kindly.

The girls mirrored her gesture bashfully, bowing and excusing themselves to stand with the others.

"That was unnecessary," Lady Bo said critically. "You have no reason to _thank _them. This is their job. Being in your presence should be gratitude enough."

Asta didn't feel like arguing and agreed with a small nod.

"Come, I will take you to your new accommodations," Lady Bo said. She clapped her hands and dismissed her attendants. The girls exited the room single file and went off in different directions to continue their other tasks.

Asta followed Lady Bo through the castle's long corridors, their bodies silhouetted on the wall by the strain of sunlight falling through the high windows. The light elongated their shadows, stretching them tall and at a sloping angle that made it seem like they were strange creatures pursuing them.

They entered the eastern wing after walking for a few minutes, stepping through the arched doorways of the tower that shot up high in the sky. Each wing was divided by one of the two castle towers. Her father had a solar up the stairs of the western tower and another bedchamber above it where he spent most of his time. The eastern tower had been her mother's home for years since she had lost her throne.

The dirty corridors were washed thoroughly and the walls were alive with soft light. There was plenty of movement with servants walking in and out of rooms, few carrying fresh linen, others with pitchers and basins for water. Each one paused to acknowledge her with a respectful bow or curtsy. Under Lady Bo's careful observation, Asta paid closer attention to her behavior and mannerisms, conscious of everything that would incite her caretaker to remind her that she was a princess. A princess was poised, sophisticated, well mannered, and adored. According to Lady Bo, princesses were supposed to become beautiful, dignified reflections of their powerful husbands. They needed to look good at their sides, like an accessory. She was far from the perfect accessory for Prince Kouen.

Lady Bo led her inside a room at the end of the second corridor they had taken, welcoming her to her new room. Asta moved to the center of the large chamber, experiencing the new smells—of wood, fresh linen, lemon, and leather. The room was twice the size of what she was used to with two doors sitting on opposite sides facing each other closest to the wall where there were three windows. The pattern on the window's drapes was intricate, gold against red. It matched with the canopy's curtains that were tied to the four posts by gold cords. Across the foot of the large bed was a round table surrounded by comfortable, padded armchairs that sat in front of the fireplace. Underneath her feet was an imported, patterned rug.

"Your boudoir is here," said Lady Bo, walking past her to the door near the fireplace. She pushed it open. "You will find all of your belongings here. Follow me."

Asta obliged her, stepping inside behind her. The color scheme within the room felt a lot more feminine than the powerful red and gold that decorated the previous one. There were soft grays mixed with pastel pinks and greens everywhere and a beautifully embroidered tapestry hanging from the wall closest to her. There was a single window and underneath it a clean desk with a chair. Beside the desk, behind a curtain hung from a line that connected one wall to the next was a small bed with a feathered mattress hidden underneath a blanket of furs.

The fireplace was smaller in this room. Despite that, there were several seats surrounding a sleek table where the chest Fu packed earlier sat. It was roomy and welcoming as one expected from a private chamber. She spotted chests of her clothes aligning the walls and a tall, wide wardrobe for storage.

Looking around, Asta knew that she would have her bookshelf placed in between the small bed and desk and the mirror would be in front of the tapestry by the entrance.

"Do you like it?" asked Lady Bo, oozing with pride.

Asta imagined she was being obvious about the matter, but nodded regardless. "It's beautiful."

Lady Bo ushered her out, making no move to walk her across and through the other door. She merely pointed. "That is your husband's solar. You should respect his privacy when he is inside and not enter unless he says you can."

She nodded.

"I will have—"

A knock silenced Lady Bo. She excused herself politely and opened the door. There was a Kou soldier standing outside avoiding Asta's curious gaze as he whispered low to Lady Bo.

"I will go immediately," Lady Bo said, dismissing the soldier. She turned to Asta briefly. "Stay here, I will have someone bring you breakfast." She was almost out the door when she looked back. "Do not leave this room under any circumstances."

"Did something happen?" Asta asked.

"Your husband has ordered it," Lady Bo said, as if that would be enough to stop her from wandering around her own home. Not that she planned to do any wandering.

"Okay."

With Lady Bo gone, Asta jumped into the bed, which was softer than expected. She closed her eyes briefly, finding a small comfort atop the plush coverlets and furs. Lying still on her stomach, she imagined herself married to Johan. A small twinge of happiness puddled at the pit of her stomach and warmed her. She wanted to bottle it up in little vials. Little vials she could open up and swallow to lift her spirits whenever she needed.

Asta married for the benefit of her country, as she had been raised to do. Her mother advised her to guard her heart, asked her to remain aware that she had a far greater purpose than to become someone's wife, and softly entrusted her with Ione. But Asta had done the opposite of everything.

She had been too eager to give Johan her heart, she had done it without regret, and it had been broken by his death. She had become someone's wife and her claim on the throne had become someone else's. Ione had benefited from her union, the poverty that had spread throughout her country had diminished greatly with the changes brought on by the Kou Empire and while she had no choice but to accept it, she had her qualms. She had tried to feel content with the changes despite her uncertainty because it had done more good than her father had in his entire reign.

What she needed was a vial of courage and of ideas. She needed both because she didn't know what to do, and she imagined if she did, she would need a bit of valor. Happiness could wait.

Asta raised her head and listened carefully to her surroundings, curious that the shuffling had stopped. She left her bed. She walked to the entrance and pressed her ear against the door, waiting to hear movement.

There was none.

Baffled, Asta opened the door and poked her head outside, looking from side to side to an empty corridor.

Did the prince summon everyone in the castle? Was there no one left to watch her? As she let those thoughts run through her mind, sufficient time had passed for another soul to walk by but the corridor remained empty.

Asta stood outside her room, the door handle in hand, as she ascertained her current situation. About half an hour ago, the entire east wing of Io Castle had been filled with servants walking in and out of rooms within the servant and guest quarters, preparing them for their new residents. She distinctly remembered soldiers guarding the vicinity on her way to her new apartments and it was odd to see the corridor without their presence.

Lady Bo also said something strange before leaving. She told her not to leave the room and when Asta prompted her for a reason, she responded that it was her husband's order. If that was the case, then who was around to enforce it?

She was alone and completely unattended. She decided to stop questioning it, let it be what it was, and took advantage of that fact to do something she wanted.

Asta went to search for Brita, who had lost her position as her attendant when Lady Bo arrived from the Kou Empire to replace her. Since that occurred, Asta rarely encountered Brita, as she had been reassigned to work the farms in the Åkerman Province where her duties kept her from visiting the castle.

Brita was the only person she could think of to ask for advice. She listened. That was what she liked about Brita. She had been with her when her mother had passed and she had been the singular comfort she had after Johan had been executed.

Asta came across a stable boy after sneaking out of the castle through a pantry that took her closer to the expansive forests of the Hult Province. She ordered him to saddle her horse.

Once the boy returned from the stables with a saddled white mare, he helped her climb on, though she had to pull her skirts up to her thighs to straddle her horse properly.

"You never saw me," she told him, holding her finger up in warning.

He nodded. "Yes, princess."

Clucking gently at her horse, she spurred the mare forward into a nice trot, maneuvering her way along the smaller hills surrounding the castle. She slowed a few times, content with the feel of the sun on her face and the wind brushing the loose strands of her hair across her cheeks. She rarely traveled outside the castle because Lady Bo was always monitoring her actions like a watchdog, waiting for any hint of impropriety to correct her.

Asta rode for several minutes before entering the Åkerman Province, known predominantly for its farmlands. There were many farm owners and even more farm hands to help during the harvest seasons. All crops were grown within the Åkerman Province, as the land in that particular part of the island had the richest soil. As the Åkerman Province was mostly plots of land, there were fewer than eight villages within it, excluding the property of House Åkerman, the ruling noble family.

She guided her horse past tall stalks of corn, urging her to quicken to reach the wheat. The kitchen staff had informed her that Brita would be working in the wheat fields when she had asked about her reassignment.

Asta paused on the road outside the field of swaying wheat, seeming to shine golden in the morning sun, and surveyed the area for her ex-attendant.

"Asta!"

She startled, whirling around in her seat to see whether she needed to escape into the forest or remain. She recognized Brita immediately, though her skin was tanned from working hours in the sun, and her outfit matched with the dowdy brown dresses the other female workers wore, radically different from the custom made uniformed dress she wore as her attendant. Her short, brown hair was tied into a small ponytail and her hazel eyes were narrowed as she came to a halt beside her horse.

"What are you thinking, princess?" she berated. "You should not be out here! Bo will mobilize the entire castle guard to find you!"

Asta's hands tightened on the horse's reins as she lowered her eyes to them. "I wanted someone to talk to."

"There are plenty of people to speak with in the castle," said Brita. "Why would you risk coming all this way?"

"Because I wanted to talk to you," she admitted, which made the displeasure leave Brita's face quickly.

"Come then, follow me," Brita said, moving forward. "I know a nice private place we can talk, but only for a moment. You need to return to the castle promptly, okay?"

"Yes."

Brita led her to a small clearing behind a row of trees and bushes. Asta dismounted and tied her horse to a trunk, though Brita had to redo the knot as it came loose easily. There were a few small crates and barrels where they were able to sit.

"Most of the workers come here for their breaks," Brita explained, taking a seat on a rectangular crate across from Asta, "but since we're harvesting the wheat, everyone's too hard at work to take any at this early an hour." She looked to Asta with a welcoming smile. "I heard your husband is visiting. Everyone is talking about it. Are you getting along?"

Asta felt her lower lip tremble. "No."

"Why?"

"He scares me," she confessed, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders. "I'm scared of him. He's so tall and so big and so…he is not eleven like he was supposed to be."

"Oh? He wasn't?" asked Brita, surprised.

"No! He was old," Asta recapped dramatically. She didn't suppose Kouen was much older than she was, but she needed to blurt it all out before she could start looking at things like a rational person, though that was never her strong point. "My father promised me to the third prince and I got the first, which makes sense with how Lady Bo has been working me to the bone since she got here because suddenly I could be an empress to a nation that is going to just swallow everyone up. I was okay with Prince Kouha, but Prince Kouen is—he's _Prince Kouen._"

She didn't have a better way to describe him. He made her feel uneasy and awkward. She didn't know how to act in front of him without feeling as if she was being perceived as a fool.

"He should have married someone else," Asta said. "Someone more important than me. Someone sophisticated and beautiful."

"Why are you saying this?" asked Brita, concerned. "Did he say something to you?"

"No, he didn't say anything at all," she replied. "I just feel inadequate, like I am a princess that marries a third prince, not a first one."

"This is all politics, princess," Brita responded. "You understand how this works. It isn't about sophistication or beauty, it is about prospects. Prince Kouen is twenty-one and this was more his choice than yours. He decided to marry your kingdom, which is essentially what the king stated in your marital contract, wasn't it?"

"I know that," Asta said, frowning, "but I'm not ready to be his wife. I'm not ready to be anyone's wife. But Lady Bo wants me to have his children as quickly as possible. She is demanding we copulate every night to increase my chances of bearing his children." All the mention of intercourse and children made her remember her wedding night, which should have been romantic and magical like it was in her head that was simply but sweaty, painful, and embarrassing. The thought of it made her shudder. "It hurts, Brita! Yesterday hurt a lot! I don't think I can do it ever again!"

Brita blinked, almost surprised to have caught the shift in the conversation, and then smiled sweetly. "That's normal—"

"Everyone told me it was going to feel good! Stupid Vilhelm said it would feel good! But it didn't! It just hurt!"

"Why are you listening to Vilhelm?" asked Brita.

"Because Carina just laughed at me!"

"Well," Brita began gently, hands up in a calming gesture, "it only hurts until you grow accustomed to it. Once that happens, it will stop hurting and start feeling good."

"But I don't want to try it anymore."

"It's unavoidable, princess. As his wife, your first duty is to give him an heir."

Asta shifted uncomfortably. "I know that."

"Look," Brita started frankly, reaching out to take her hands, "you just have to be honest. If it's painful, tell him and ask him to be gentle. He won't know unless you tell him."

"Do you think he would listen to me?"

"Why wouldn't he?"

Asta shrugged. She didn't want to imagine what kind of face he would make if she tried to direct him in any way. He'd probably just glare at her and she'd melt into the ground in fear.

"I am certain that once he gets to know you, he'll adore you," said Brita kindly.

"I don't need him to adore me," Asta said. Even with all of her complaints concerning the marriage, she wasn't searching to be loved. She didn't need to be loved by her husband. "I want to be married in peace. I don't want what happened to my mother and father. This marriage was doomed from the start, but I at least would like it if we could get along." What they needed was tolerance for one another and perhaps that could turn into comfort. Things would be easier if they were comfortable. "I'm just not used to talking to him."

Not coherently.

"Try," Brita advised.

"Lady Bo put us in a room together, I tried to get to know him, it didn't work," Asta said. "I just got nervous and ran. I messed it all up. I couldn't say anything to him. I couldn't really think. It was just so weird."

"Why don't you take him hunting?" Brita suggested. "That requires little talking. It might help you grow comfortable enough to find conversation easy."

"What if he's no good? What's the point?"

"Then, you'll just have to teach him."

Asta slumped in her seat. "But Lady Bo won't let me go out because I'm not the perfect princess yet."

"Nobody is saying to ask Lady Bo, you take this straight to him."

"And if he says no?"

"Why would he say no to you?" Brita asked.

"He might," she said. "He doesn't have any obligation to say yes."

"Well, you shouldn't be so quick to assume if he may or may not." Brita rose from her seat. "Remember, what your mother used to say." She reached out to help Asta get on her feet. "Now, I should be getting back to work and you should be heading back into the castle."

Asta got up with Brita's help and walked to her horse.

"Oh, and princess," Brita called. "Remember that the faster you learn to get along with your new husband, the more freedom you gain. After all, Prince Kouen can decide that Lady Bo isn't necessary here and return her to the Kou Empire."

"But I don't want to get rid of Lady Bo," Asta responded innocently.

"It was an example."

"Oh?" She didn't quite understand. "Then what do you mean?"

"No, it was nothing," Brita said, smiling earnestly. "Good luck, princess."

"Thank you, Brita."

Asta rode back to the hillside of the capital where the castle was situated. She dropped the horse off at the stables to the same boy that saddled it and snuck into the castle through the same pantry she used to leave it.

She returned to the eastern wing with little distractions and as stealthily as she could, despite the corridors being empty. She had half expected to be caught by someone, but nobody had sprung out to accuse her of leaving the castle without permission.

Asta opened her door quietly, peering from one corridor to the next, ever cautious, and slipped inside. She took the heavy door and sealed it shut.

"Oh, princess, there you are."

Asta startled, whirling around, back pressed to the door.

Lady Bo stood in front of the table in front of the fireplace, its surface crowded with breakfast platters and a glass jug of freshly squeezed orange juice beside a bottle of wine. Despite the sudden increase in servings, Asta could only see a single empty plate and glass situated in front of one of the cushioned chairs.

"I was about to send someone to find you," Lady Bo said. "Your breakfast was cold when I entered, so I ordered the cooks to prepare it again."

There was plenty of wrong with the current situation. Lady Bo was acting strange. The woman had on various occasions been guilty of making Asta eat her breakfast cold to remind her that she needed to have breakfast at an exact hour so it would never cut into the rest of her routine.

This time, Lady Bo had asked the cooks to make her breakfast again.

Was it poisoned?

"Well, come sit," Lady Bo said, pulling out the chair for her.

Did she find some strange drug she wanted to try on her?

Asta sat down, remembering her posture. She stared at the different platters, uncertain where to start. Her thin attendant did not make things any better by hovering over her waiting for a decision to be made.

Lady Bo hadn't reprimanded her for disappearing, nor had she made a move to interrogate her on what her whereabouts had been prior to arriving.

She hoped her caretaker brought it up before she started eating, or else Asta would become too distressed by the criticism to finish her breakfast.

"Prince Kouen asked that we cancel your lessons for the day," Lady Bo said nonchalantly.

"Huh?"

"Not _huh_, princess," the thin woman reprimanded.

Asta swallowed hard. "I apologize," she said, baffled, "What I meant to say was, _excuse me_."

"You heard correctly, Prince Kouen wanted your lessons canceled."

"Why?"

"Why?" Lady Bo repeated, irritated. "Does he need a reason? You have the day to do as you please, so long as you keep a soldier and either myself or another of my girls with you at all times. The day is yours."

Asta fought against the automatic excitement coursing through her at the sweet sound of freedom. She had harp lessons today and she could not understand why she had needed to learn an instrument. Harp lessons had a tendency of going on forever too, as she had the misfortune of becoming the student to the world's most enthusiastic harp instructor. The woman had no sense of time. Lady Bo had allowed them to go on for an extra two hours for entertainment purposes. She had discovered a way to punish Asta for all the unnecessary grief she had caused her for her own enjoyment.

"I can do anything?" Asta tested.

"Within reason."

"What is within reason?"

"Ask before you commit to any activity," Lady Bo said, sighing. "Remember you are married and your actions are a reflection of your husband, so behave like a proper wife."

"I will do my best to act properly," Asta assured, then turned to her empty breakfast plate starting to grow hungry. "So, when is my husband coming? Will I have to wait for him long?"

"What reason would he have to come?" asked Lady Bo, and then her thin lips curled with sudden excitement. "Did you ask him to come to your room? He agreed? Oh good, princess, you are taking this marriage seriously. I worried you would not be able to provide him heirs with how finicky you've been around him."

"For breakfast," Asta clarified slowly. She didn't know she was supposed to ask him to bed her. Was that a requirement?

Lady Bo's face went back to neutral. "What?"

"It's _excuse me_, Lady Bo," she corrected purposely, enjoying the twitch of annoyance in Lady Bo's eye.

"Never mind that, princess!" her caretaker snapped. "This attitude of yours concerns me! You need to be more proactive or else your husband will stray and you'll have to deal with concubines!"

"He can have concubines?" asked Asta, sounding shocked.

"It is perfectly normal to have one or two for a man of his status," Lady Bo explained, looking proud.

"I hope we can all get along well if we're going to be a part of Prince Kouen's harem," Asta replied, unfazed. She reached for a strawberry when her caretaker slapped at her hand. She glared at her. "Lady Bo! _Why_?"

"There is no bigger insult to a woman than be the wife of a man that needs a concubine!"

"But you said it was okay!"

"Not for one of my girls! This is why I stress the importance of your lessons!"

Asta blushed.

"Why are you blushing?" demanded Lady Bo.

"I'm feeling quite touched, Lady Bo."

"Enough! Eat your breakfast before it grows cold! I will not order for it to be made a third time."

"So, will the prince have breakfast with me?" Asta asked, having not received a proper response earlier. "I don't want to start eating because it would be rude if he walked in to find that I have."

"Prince Kouen has already had his breakfast."

"When?"

"Before you were woken," Lady Bo answered. "He is a busy man."

"But he's my husband," Asta said, confused. "I thought we would have breakfast together."

Lady Bo laughed at her ridiculousness. "That is preposterous, princess," she said. "The prince enjoys his breakfast alone. You should as well."

"But what if I want to eat with him?"

"Why would you want to do that?"

"I might not enjoy eating on my own," Asta challenged. "I might like to talk to someone instead of having you and everyone else just watch me eat."

"You talk to us regardless," answered Lady Bo smartly.

"That's not the point and you know it."

She thought that perhaps having breakfast away from each other was the best option for them. She imagined that if they did sit in the same table together, it'd be as bad as their first meeting. Actually, Asta was sure it would be worst. There would be food. She would stuff her mouth full of it instead of talk.

"If the prince wants to have breakfast with you, he will invite you," Lady Bo said. "Otherwise, you must be content eating on your own." She shot her a critical look. "And hopefully when he does invite you, you will have learned how to eat like a proper lady."

Asta purposely stacked her plate with as much food as possible, earning a disapproving glance from her caretaker. She ate a small portion of everything, believing it rude not to sample all the dishes the cooks had prepared for her, especially when they had done it twice.

Her short conversation with Brita replayed in her mind the entire time. With all of Lady Bo's plans cancelled, she felt she wouldn't need to go to Kouen about hunting. Well, she wouldn't have to if it was _within reason_. She couldn't think of a reason why it wouldn't be. She had experience hunting. Hunting had been a common interest between herself and her father and the closest they had ever gotten to a bonding moment. He had taught her plenty, but not as much as the senior commander of Ione's military, Werner, had. She had given up hunting several years ago until she had thought of using it as an excuse to spend more time with Johan. They had gone "hunting" to a remote cottage that belonged to his uncle in the Hult Province. Her father had tremendous trust in him then. He probably had not known they were in a relationship. Perhaps, he had known all along. She had never been as discreet as she should have been.

None of that was important.

Getting along with her husband was. Hunting could be the bridge to get there. At the same time, she had her qualms.

She would be out of practice. Expecting to have a successful hunt was slim, too. She didn't think she had arrows fit for a hunt, either, which meant sending someone that knew anything about arrows to purchase enough to fill her quiver. She needed to find something comfortable to wear. She would also need a map. She didn't know the forest by heart, not completely. She recognized areas by sight, but only enough to know whether she had been there before or not.

Asta didn't understand why Brita suggested she take Kouen hunting anymore. She didn't want to take him anywhere. She didn't even want to be in the same room with him.

She needed to remind herself multiple times that she didn't have a choice. The marriage was for the people. So, she told herself to stop whining about him.

She would need to get to know him like Brita suggested. And if Brita didn't think he was a bad man, he probably wasn't. Asta couldn't judge so long as she knew nothing about him apart from what Lady Bo had told her in passing, which had not been at all helpful.

Prince Kouen of the Kou Empire. He was the first prince. He was something she called a dungeon capturer. When Asta had asked for a definition for the term, Lady Bo had glared at her for interrupting. He led the Western Subjugation Army. War was where he excelled. He was handsome. He was always busy.

What else had she learned? Nothing.

That was everything Lady Bo had bothered to tell her about her husband.

Asta had been under the impression that she had gone on one of her tangents to highlight the Kou Empire's superiority to the world, so she had tuned it out. At the time, Asta had been more interested to learn what sort of boy she had been married to, but Lady Bo had continuously reprimanded her for getting off topic.

It made sense now that she was married to Kouen, not his brother like it had been agreed.

Asta decided she would invite him hunting after all. It was familiar. If things went as smoothly as their first meeting, there was hunting to distract her.

Once Lady Bo's girls appeared to clear her table, Asta approached the thin woman with her request. She wanted to attain her approval instead of going behind her back to Kouen. If she said no, she would go to Kouen. If he said no, she would probably find Brita and tell her that her plan didn't work.

"Lady Bo," she called, hesitant she was heading straight for a rejection. The woman dismissed the two girls she was speaking to and turned fully to Asta, her sharp gaze a daunting sight. "Uhm…I was…uhh…"

"What? Enunciate, princess, you are mumbling," Lady Bo interrupted.

Asta jolted, breathing in and out. She tried to calm herself, but her stomach was in knots and her heart was beating rapidly. "Hunting!"

"Hunting?"

"Hunting with my bow," she blurted. "I will bring the whole castle guard if you'd like, but I want to go hunting."

"Hunting?" asked Lady Bo, arching a thin eyebrow.

"I want to take Prince Kouen," she added. If her caretaker agreed to the idea, Asta would simply ask Kouen if he would like to accompany her the next time she saw him.

Lady Bo made a contented sound, saying nothing before she exited her room.

She blinked, watching her caretaker disappear down the corridor with her ladies in tow. "Lady Bo?"

As Lady Bo turned the corner, she and her accompanying ladies paused to bow as Kouen walked past them. The opportunity to ask him to go hunting was perfect. She didn't think she'd get another good chance considering he was bound to be busy for the rest of the day.

Their eyes met.

Asta slammed the door shut as soon as he was near. She didn't think he was going to enter. She hoped he wasn't going to enter. But what was she supposed to do? She panicked. He made her panic into slamming the door in his face. Or was it near his face? It was his fault. He shouldn't have been walking through the corridors at that hour. It was too early.

No. She couldn't give up so easily.

She opened the door slowly, trying to do so quietly, but the old, oaken thing betrayed her when its antique hinges squealed in protest. She peered outside, watching Kouen pause in the middle of the hallway and turn.

He stared right at her, waiting for her to say something.

"Good morning," she greeted.

"It's afternoon," he pointed out.

Her mind blanked.

"Oh. Uhm—" Asta felt a dark presence, as if Lady Bo lurked in the shadows glaring holes into the back of her head to communicate her need to stop with the mumbling. She stepped out of the room and approached him, feeling her heart beating nervously. She didn't know what to say.

"Is there something you need?" he asked.

This was harder than asking Lady Bo.

"H-Hunt…"

"Hunt?"

"I-I want to go h-hunt." Her face was burning as she struggled with her words.

He arched an eyebrow. "You don't need to ask permission, you can do anything you'd like."

Kouen was about to turn around and continue on his way, but she spoke up immediately, "No."

Again, he waited.

She inhaled deeply, blurting, "I meant to invite you."

"To hunt?"

"Yes."

He considered it in silence before he finally answered, "It will need to be on a different occasion."

She felt a smile curl her lips. "Yes. Okay. You can keep going now."

Asta ran down the corridor behind her to surprise Lady Bo, who was eavesdropping on the conversation. "Lady Bo!"

The caretaker startled. Her ladies giggled behind her.

She put her hands on her hips. "Haven't you learned how rude it is to eavesdrop?"

Lady Bo's pale face colored. "What an absurd accusation? We were returning because I forgot to relay something to you."

"Oh? What is it?"

Her caretaker stumbled over words, unable to think of a single thing to say before she finally sighed. "You did well, princess, but you must work on your conversation. You were mumbling and stuttering and—"

"—princesses do not stutter," Asta finished. "I promise to do better next time."

"They also do not run through corridors in front of their husbands!"

Asta looked over her shoulder, but Kouen was long gone. "Do you think he minds it?"

"Return to your room, princess, and find something to entertain yourself."

"Yes, ma'am."

Asta obliged her and returned to her room. Once there, her quest for entertainment began, though she never thought to ask whether it was _within reason _to go outsideuntil Hua entered on Lady Bo's orders.

"Is there anything I could do for you, princess?" asked Hua.

"Would you accompany me outside?" asked Asta.

Hua had entered as Asta recalled riding out to the Åkerman Province that neighbored the country's capital. She had forgotten what it felt like to feel the wind rushing through her hair, to see the scenery blur in her surroundings as her horse pumped its powerful legs across the terrain, and to experience the anxiety in her ebb into joy with the feel of her body bouncing when in a slow trot.

"Yes, of course," Hua said politely. "Would you like me to make any preparations for you before we go?"

"Do you ride, Miss Hua?"

"Ride, princess?"

"Do you know how to ride a horse? I want to go riding, but I don't want you to follow me on foot. It would be a bit unfair, wouldn't it?"

Hua hesitated. "No, princess, I do not know how to ride," she answered, "but if I may make a suggestion?"

"You don't need to ask, just talk freely. Go, go." Asta's easiness always surprised Lady Bo's army of attendants, who were to talk to speak when spoken to and never to offer their suggestions. They were supposed to be still and silent, ready to take on whatever task was assigned swiftly and perfectly. Ever polite and ever professional, they were nothing more.

Brita never shied from making suggestions or offering advice. In fact, if any one of Lady Bo's attendants had been around to see how Brita and the other servants acted around Asta, they would have been scandalized. Lady Bo had seen it and she had succeeded in having most of them reassigned to other parts of the country, replacing them with individuals more aware of their place. She had said there was too much camaraderie when there should have been more of a master-servant relationship. Some of her servants knew how to act in front of Lady Bo, so they avoided her sweep.

"What if I rode with someone that is well acquainted with horse riding?" Hua proposed. "As you are required to have a member of the castle guard in your company, I do believe this is possible."

"I have a better idea," Asta said, moving to the edge of her seat. "I am going to teach you how to ride."

Hua's cheeks reddened. "No, there's no need."

"Yes there is!" Asta jumped out of her seat and grabbed hold of Hua's hands. "We're going!"

"Princess, please, I don't think this is appropriate!"

Asta tugged Hua out into the corridor where there were two soldiers standing nearby. Both wore simple plated armor coupled with violet capes held in place by a metal brooch with the Royal House's crest. They were two of the fifteen guards assigned to watch over her and the ones she saw standing near her door the most.

"Miss Carina, we're going to teach Miss Hua how to ride a horse," Asta said, keeping Hua in a vise grip to stop her from scurrying away. "Can you have horses prepared for us?"

"Yes, princess." Carina Olander left her post and walked down the corridor. Her high, blond ponytail swaying with each step she took. Carina stood taller than most women did, and in some occasions, most men. Her face structure was strong and androgynous. She was a powerful martial artist, like her brother, but a better swordsman.

"You heard nothing," Asta said, looking to Vilhelm Olander.

"What makes you think I'm listening now?" asked Vilhelm snobbishly. His hair was a darker shade of blond than his sister, his jaw was squared, and green eyes were narrow.

"That's it, Mr. Vilhelm, that's the attitude."

"Stop wasting time and go!"

Hua looked scandalized by his answer, but she didn't have the opportunity to react because Asta was dragging her down the corridor.

Asta took Hua to the stables where Carina was helping the stable boy saddle three horses.

"Princess, you remember Elis?" Carina said, gesturing to the young boy.

Elis bowed respectfully. "Good afternoon, princess."

Asta smiled at Elis nervously before she gave Hua a gentle push forward.

Hua inclined her head. "I am Hua, one of Princess Asta's attendants. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, Miss Hua."

"Miss Hua, you already know Miss Carina, yes?" asked Asta, gesturing to Carina, who offered a shy, tightlipped smile.

"Not properly, no, nice to meet you Miss Carina."

"Yes, nice to meet you."

"Elis, you should come ride with us," suggested Asta.

Elis flushed. His big, blue eyes blinked in Asta's direction, filled with disbelief. "Really?"

"You're not doing anything, are you?" asked Asta.

"I have a few horses to—"

"Then you get the day off! Let's go!"

Elis smiled kindly. "Thank you, princess."

Carina took control of the afternoon, which Asta appreciated because all she wanted to do was trot around on a horse. She watched Carina as she patiently instructed Hua about relaxing.

"Horses are very intuitive," she heard Carina say. "If they feel you're scared, they'll panic, so you have to be calm."

Hua nodded and approached the brown mare cautiously, reaching out to touch it. Elis was holding the horse's reins, keeping her relaxed.

Asta enjoyed the opportunity to guide her horse through the long road that ran between the castle's surrounding hills. It was leveled ground that made for an exciting run. However, she encountered a bit of a snag when a familiar, overweight cat sprang across the hill and spooked her horse. In its frightened state, the horse squealed, rising on its powerful back legs so quickly Asta was thrown off its saddled back. She hit the ground hard with a loud yelp.

The pain throbbing at her back left her stunned. She heard her horse's powerful hooves stomp the ground as it went running up a slight hill.

"Princess!" shouted Elis. "Miss Carina! The princess!"

Something soft brushed against the side of her face and she swatted it away, knowing the large orange tabby was circling her like a shark. Its fur coated with dirt. "You came back, you stupid cat."

It meowed near her ear.

Asta rolled onto her side, pushing her body up to a seated position.

Carina and Elis came running to her side. The former quick to help her get on her feet while the stable boy went out to find her horse.

"Are you hurt?" asked Carina, searching her arms for any sign of wounds. She found a few scrapes and areas that would likely become bruised, like her back. "Lady Bo will not be pleased."

"It's fine, it's fine," assured Asta. She hurt, but it wasn't quite as bad as if felt on the way down. She noticed the cat sitting at her feet and reached down to pick it up. "This one spooked my horse."

"So he came back? Good for you Joa, you get to eat like a prince again." Carina took the cat from her arms and looked past Asta. "It seems Elis has found your horse, he's coming back. Thank him properly."

Asta turned. The stable boy was walking back to them guiding her white mare by the reins.

"She didn't run far," said Elis.

"Thank you," said Asta. "Can you help me mount?"

"You want to mount again?" asked Carina.

"Yes, of course." Asta smiled, moving around to stand on her mare's left. She brushed her fingers over her pale mane. "She was just frightened."

Elis helped Asta mount her horse. She inclined her head in gratitude before looking to Carina. "Can you ask someone to feed and bathe him?"

"I can do it," offered Elis, receiving the tabby from Carina. "Excuse me, Miss Carina. Excuse me, Princess Asta."

Elis walked off to deliver the cat to the castle. Carina remained at her side until dismissed.

Asta continued to ride, laughing off the pain of her fall. She didn't want it to spoil her day. She strayed far to reach the edge of the Hult Province, a forest that ran so deep it seemed it did not seem have an end, and doubled back to see Hua sitting successfully on a horse fighting her own fear.

Carina found her as the sun hung low in the sky, coloring it with warmth, and beckoned her back to the castle. Carina helped her off the horse, excusing herself with her and Hua to return the white mare to the stables.

Asta and Hua walked back to the castle.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" asked Asta. "Miss Carina said you were able to mount and sit properly."

"What about yourself, princess?" said Hua. "You fell from your horse."

"It was okay! Tell me about your experience!"

"It was a good experience, but I doubt I'll be any good at riding," answered Hua.

"Just don't panic when you fall," advised Asta. "You're going to fall eventually and it's going to hurt, but you shouldn't let that get to you."

"Yes, falling is quite a frightening idea."

"I was very clumsy on horses when I was still learning," said Asta. "That is why people still worry about helping me mount and dismount. I mean, I am sure you saw me fall earlier. I used to fall off ponies when I was learning."

"Did your father teach you to ride?"

"No, but he did teach me to swordfight," she recalled. "Ione is a military country. Even a princess can't afford to be delicate and sweet. That is what he used to say. However, I was disappointing. He would start guiding me and would grow bored soon after, then leave me in someone else's care. My mother wanted to teach me everything." She smiled at the thought of her mother. "She did everything she could before she passed."

Hua directed her black eyes to the ground. "You are very kind sharing this with me, princess," she said. "I do believe all of our actions this afternoon were improper. Forgive my saying this, but you should be acting like a princess."

Asta grinned. "You know, my mother used to say something quite interesting."

"What?"

"You're both human beings, the only difference is what you do for a living," Asta said, looking on ahead. "I think if my father would have raised me, I would agree with what you believe, but my mother raised me. She fought to have me stay with her in the eastern tower. She told me that yes, I was a princess and that my station was far above theirs, but that I should never see it that way. They are working for me, yes, I am paying them, yes. However, that doesn't exactly give me the right to treat them like anything other than a human being. We are capable of loving the same, of experiencing joy the same, of growing anxious and feeling sadness. We can be hard workers or not work at all, but that doesn't change anything."

Hua smiled lightly.

"They are, however, required to call me princess because I like it." She laughed. "And when I'm queen, they'll have to change it because I'll enjoy being called Queen Asta of Ione. It sounds good, doesn't it?"

"And one day you'll be an empress," reminded Hua. "It will be many years from today, but you will."

Asta scrunched up her nose. "Empress Asta sounds a bit funny, doesn't it?"

"No, it sounds quite nice," Hua said gently. "Emperor Kouen and his Empress, Asta. There. That has a nice sound to it."

She nodded. "It does, it does."

"You should hurry up and get along with him," came Carina's voice. The female soldier came jogging towards them, her platted armor clinking with her movement.

"I am," Asta said. "We're going hunting."

"Oh good." Carina rolled her eyes. "Out of all the enjoyable sports you could have chosen, you pick the one that requires silence. You can't be yammering while you're closing in on a deer, princess."

"I thought it would be easier, you know, until I get used to him," Asta pointed out.

"This is why we should have you practice with someone," Carina said pointedly. "We can try Kåre. You can pretend he's the prince and try speaking with him without running away or shouting at him."

Asta made a sound in protest.

Carina put both of her hands atop Asta's shoulders and steered her towards the back entrance. "Come on, princess."

"Miss Carina," whined Asta. "No."

"You are the one that said that you wanted to get along well with the prince," Carina reminded, which made Asta regret making that known. "Things won't change if you don't put in the effort."

"But I invited him hunting."

"And I was surprised you didn't yell at him."

Carina succeeded in guiding Asta through the patch of land offered to a vegetable garden provided for the kitchen staff and maintained by farmers. There were a few farmers present as Asta, Carina, and Hua moved along a lane of cobblestone leading up to a side entrance of a small brick hut connected to the castle's western wing kitchen. The hut's chimney was billowing smoke and the scent of cooking food reached their noses.

"Kåre!" called Carina, pausing midway to the hut's back entrance. She waved a dark-haired man over from behind the tomatoes. She leaned forward, near Asta's ear and whispered, "Now pretend he's the prince."

Kåre jogged over, tugging off his dirt covered gloves. He noticed Asta immediately and bowed. "Good afternoon, Princess Asta."

That would be difficult to imagine with Kåre smiling at her expectantly. Regardless, she tried her best to picture him as Kouen.

"A-After—ow!" Carina smacked her back.

"Miss Carina!" cried Hua, shocked.

"Afternoon," corrected Carina. "You can pronounce it like a normal person. Now, look him straight in the eye and greet him. If it makes it easier for you, just imagine he's a woman."

Kåre stared at them blankly. "Huh? What are we doing?"

Asta rubbed her back, grimacing at Carina briefly. She forced herself to look at Kåre's face, trying to imagine him as Carina suggested with longer hair, color on his eyelids, longer eyelashes, and red lipstick. He would look ridiculous with makeup on his face. It wouldn't go well with his beard. She snorted.

"You just imagined me as a woman, didn't you?" asked Kåre, disappointed.

Asta nodded, clapping both hands over her mouth to keep her laughter from spilling.

"I think she just imagined you with lipstick," added Carina, laughter in her eyes. "Beard and all." She smacked Asta's back. "You were supposed to be imagining your husband as a woman, not Kåre!"

"I can't imagine him as a woman, I won't be able to look at him again if I did!"

A small giggle escaped Hua, surprising everyone into looking in her direction. As Hua's laughter escalated, everyone soon joined her.

"Princess! Hua! Guard Carina! Farmer Kåre!"

The laughter left them as they lifted their eyes to one of the small windows on the second floor overlooking the vegetable garden. Lady Bo was poking her head out glaring at them.

"Look at the state you are in, princess!" criticized Lady Bo. "Is that grass in your hair? Are those grass stains on your dress? That is silk, princess! Have you any idea how expensive silk is?" Lady Bo's face grew redder as her voice turned shrill. "Is that—is that a tear I see? Princess! Guard Carina, you bring the princess up here this instant!"

"Do you see what you have done, princess? We take you riding and Lady Bo gets angry," said Carina. "Let's go."

"She's not angry, she's furious," said Hua, panicking. "I could lose my position for presenting you in this state."

Asta patted Hua's shoulder in assurance. "I won't let you lose your position over something like this."

By the time Asta presented herself before Lady Bo with Hua to her right, her face downcast, and Carina to her left, standing stock still and straight like a soldier prepared for a reprimand, her caretaker had prepared a longwinded speech about acting like a princess.

"This was _not_ within reason!"

"I didn't ask the horse to drop me, but it did!" retorted Asta.

"You let her climb one of those beasts!" cried Lady Bo shrilly, directing her glare to both Carina and Hua.

"She's normally a good rider, but this cat spooked her horse," said Carina in her defense.

"And where were you?" demanded Lady Bo.

"I was teaching Miss Hua to ride."

"Hua! Guard Carina! You were assigned to keep watch of her not go off on your own and do as you wish! Riding horses, Hua? What reason do you have to learn? And you, Guard Carina, how could you leave the princess' side?"

"I apologize—"

"They had nothing to do with it," interjected Asta, though Carina was unfazed by the accusations. "I invited Miss Hua to come riding with me and when I learned she had no experience, I employed Miss Carina to teach her."

"_Miss_?"

Lady Bo's yapping ended because Fu appeared to inform her that arrangements had been made at the bathhouse.

"Come, princess, we are going."

"Can't I bathe in my boudoir? I don't want to go to the bathhouse!"

Lady Bo grabbed one of her wrists, raising it so the sleeve of her shirt pooled into the bend of her elbow and exposed the reddened scrape along her forearm. "Look at this! You have scrapes on you and bruises on your back! You need a special bath! Fu, you will accompany us to the bathhouse."

Fu waited for Asta and Lady Bo to move forward.

"You will be without dinner, Hua, so that you may learn your place," said Lady Bo. "And you Guard Carina will be reported to your superior for allowing the princess to get injured."

Hua was in tears when Lady Bo exited, slamming the door shut behind her. She turned her irritated look onto Asta and clapped her hands noisily. "We are going _now_."

"Yes, Lady Bo," said Asta, scurrying down the corridor.

The bathhouse made for an unpleasant experience with Lady Bo scrubbing her down to ensure every speck of dirt was cleaned before allowing her to sit in one of the larger pools to nurse the painful throbbing of her skin. She didn't let her stay long as she would be late to having her dinner.

"This is completely unsightly," continued Lady Bo on their way back to her apartments. "Your back is bruised purple! I had to call the castle's physician!"

It was also starting to hurt. She didn't think she'd be able to sleep comfortably until the bruising stopped throbbing.

She laughed off Lady Bo's worries. "It's just a bruise."

"You are being very difficult, princess," said Lady Bo. "Had I known you would be up to no good, I would have stuck close to you. I thought we agreed you would behave."

"You said it only needed to be within reason, not that it required my behavior to be good."

"Enough! That's enough, princess!"

Lady Bo ushered her inside her apartments where a bespectacled physician awaited her arrival with one of her attendants in his company.

He asked her to remove her robe so that he could inspect her back. She sat atop the feathered mattress cross-legged holding her arms over her chest to cover her naked breasts. He touched her back with cold hands, applying pressure in certain areas that made her wince in pain.

"You seem to have suffered no further damage than the bruising," said the physician, moving out of the way to allow Fu to help her reinsert her arms through the sleeves of her robe. "She is quite fortunate. A fall from a horse on this terrain can be quite dangerous."

"Is there anything we can do?" asked Lady Bo.

"Ice will help keep the bruising from spreading," began the physician. "First cold, then heat. She should have plenty of rest."

The physician asked to see her scrapes. He provided her attendants with an ointment to spread across them to avoid infection after applying a thin layer over the scrapes on her forearms and on her left knee before he wrapped them lightly in gauze. He instructed that it be applied every few hours.

Lady Bo thanked him for his time. He left her room with a respectful inclination of his head.

Asta's dinner was brought in and she ate little. She lost her appetite with all of Lady Bo's heckling. She asked for Hua to sit with her to pass the time, but Lady Bo informed her that she had sent all of her attendants away, save for Fu, who would be taking care of her back's bruise for the night.

"I do hope you know that I expect for you to make up for the time you will lose because you decided to ride a horse this afternoon," said Lady Bo, tugging at the coverlets of the giant bed. "Think about what you can do to ensure your husband is pleased."

She patted the soft mattress, a gesture that invited Asta to lie down.

Asta climbed on the bed, pulling one of the pillows underneath her chin as she would be lying on her stomach so Fu could place ice over her bruise. Asta wished she could see the damn thing since everyone was making quite a fuzz about it.

"I can try to make him laugh, but I won't make any promises," said Asta jokingly.

"This is not funny, princess!" Lady Bo tugged at the covers, draping them over her legs. She reached for her robe, pulling at it. "Okay, get your arms out."

Asta obeyed and felt a cold breeze hit her exposed back.

Lady Bo covered her back with a thin cloth before Fu took a bundle of ice in a white rag, placing it over the cloth carefully. Asta's muscles tensed.

"That's too cold!"

The door opened. Asta heard the shuffling of feet as Lady Bo and Fu turned in the direction of the entrance, bowing respectfully with their hands joined together.

"My prince," the two echoed.

"Did something happen?" Kouen's voice reached her, deep and unconcerned.

"The princess had an accident," explained Lady Bo. "She slipped on the final step of the staircase and bruised her back badly."

"It was a horse," corrected Asta, confused about why Lady Bo would lie.

Kouen said nothing in response. He walked around the bed and entered the room that sat beside it, casting a quick glance in her direction. She noted he wasn't dressed in his traditional robes, rather a simple white, sleeping robe and his red hair looked to be drying. She wondered if he went to the bathhouse as well. Someone smelled like those awful bathhouse oils.

Asta took a whiff of her skin. It was her. She cursed them to hell. They were so pungent. She smelled like patchouli. She hated patchouli. Why couldn't they just make her smell like pomegranates or apples? Who wanted to smell like watered dirt?

Fu stayed with Asta for several minutes applying ice over the bruise before Lady Bo decided it best to let her rest. Fu was the first to wish her pleasant dreams and leave. Lady Bo unbound the curtains of the canopy, letting them fall around the bed, engulfing it in darkness, though a fire burned in the fireplace that lit the room in orange light.

"Sleep well, princess," said Lady Bo from the door.

"Lady Bo?" called Asta.

"Yes?"

"Please don't punish Miss Hua or report Guard Carina," she said. "I promise none of this was their fault. It was the cat's fault."

"The cat?"

"His name is Joa."

"Joa?"

"Yes. He spooked my horse."

"You are tired, princess, we can speak of this later. Good night."

She was being serious.

Asta used the opportunity to pull her robe on properly, trying to fall asleep in the darkness inside the canopy. She found it hard to find a comfortable position. She wasn't used to sleeping on her stomach. It always felt like she was suffocating and that reminded her of her wedding night, which she spent all day trying to forget knowing it needed to be done. With that thought woven in her head, she started to wonder about Kouen and whether or not he planned to sleep in his solar. She only wanted to know in case she wanted to stretch out completely even though it was obvious that she could probably sleep horizontally on the bed with him sleeping vertically and there would still be enough room left for at least three other people of average build and height.

That thought led to her wondering why Lady Bo would lie about her falling off a horse. Was she not supposed to know how to ride a horse? She thought that was essential for any girl of noble birth. They were at least required to know how to sit on one. And it wasn't as if she hurt herself badly, just that mysterious bruise on her back and a few scrapes.

Asta put an end to her thoughts, rising on her hands and knees. She crawled over to the other end of the bed and climbed out. She padded towards the entrance of her boudoir, opened the door quietly, taking a candle for lighting, and slipped inside. She wanted to see how grave this bruise was if it had everyone acting as though it would spread and kill her.

She set the candleholder atop the desk where it illuminated the room enough. She moved to her mother's mirror, which had been placed in front of the tapestry as she had imagine, and started to pull apart the sash that held her robe closed. She pulled her thick hair over her left shoulder when she turned her back to the mirror and looked over her right. She let her robe fall from her back, shuddering in the night's chill. She saw the bruise, dark violet almost black in the orange light, stretch across her shoulder blade. It was a miracle nothing terrible had happened to her given how hideous it was. She noticed smaller bruises on her lower back, but they weren't purple, they were a light green and easy to miss. She found another near the back of her right hip and poked it, whining noisily when it throbbed in response.

Asta tugged on her robe and tied the sash messily. She didn't understand how any of her attendants did it, but they did a great job with it. She supposed that's what counted.

She went back to her room and went straight to the door. She poked her head out to see Vilhelm standing with a new guard.

"Weren't you all tucked in?" asked Vilhelm, his voice low.

"Where's Miss Carina?" asked Asta, frowning at him.

"Probably crying in her room over what happened this afternoon. You know how she is, very emotional."

The guard with him laughed.

"I'm going to see her."

"Should you be leaving in the middle of the night?" asked Vilhelm.

"You can walk me, just to make sure I don't fall off another horse."

"You're not even on a horse."

"There doesn't have to be a horse. I'm going to fall anyway. There's stairs."

Vilhelm stepped forward. "Come on then. I'll walk you to our quarters."

Asta shut the door behind her as noiselessly as possible and followed Vilhelm to the sleeping quarters the guards were occupying on that floor. He forced her to stop as they were about to turn the corner, holding his arm out. She heard a familiar pair of voices from the connecting corridor and knew they were her attendants.

Vilhelm took a step back, turning to her. "If they see you, they'll squeal to Lady Bo," he whispered. "Come on, I think we can take a different route."

But Asta took him by the arm, stopping him because she overhead strands of the conversation.

"…honestly…understand why she can't be told," said one attendant.

"We shouldn't…"

"Yes, but…"

"No, we…to judge Prince Kouen's decision…the information from Princess Asta…"

"Eavesdropping is a terrible habit," whispered Vilhelm. "You shouldn't pick it up."

"They are gossiping about my husband," said Asta lowly.

"They are also talking about you," he pointed out. "What? Did you suddenly develop some semblance of concern for your husband?"

"No, but he is mine," said Asta, receiving an odd look. "He is _my _husband. I can talk about him, nobody else can. That's just rude."

"You know, you're pretty audacious, princess," accused Vilhelm, looking at her disappointed. "Doesn't matter who you are, talking about anyone behind their back is rude. I thought Lady Bo was teaching you manners."

"She was, but it doesn't mean they'll stick," she whispered harshly. "Now shut up, they're arguing and I can't hear if we are too."

"You're an awful princess."

She jabbed at his arm with her elbow, moving closer to the wall, hoping that meant she might hear clearly.

"…but he's dead, her father's dead and everyone's just supposed to keep silent."

"_Shhhh! _Lady Bo will be livid if she hears us speaking!"

Asta lowered her eyes to the ground, her chest tightening. She looked straight at the blond guard beside her, who stared back horrified.

"Fuck," cursed Vilhelm, covering his mouth. "Wait, princess—"

She moved quickly, faster than he could grab hold of her. She stepped out from behind the corner, surprising the two attendants standing in the middle of the hallway, one holding fresh towels in her arms and the other carrying an empty basket. The two young women blanched at the sight of her, staring at her wide-eyed with their mouths agape.

The two reacted quickly.

"Princess, forgive us, we should be going," said one attendant, bowing.

"Stop!" commanded Asta, feeling every inch of her body tremble as she fought against the emotion clawing at her chest. Her attendants froze.

"Princess," called Vilhelm, appearing beside her. "You should return to your room. Come, I will escort—"

"Vilhelm, you will be silent!" she interrupted, keeping her eyes on her attendants. She felt that if she looked away, they would see it as an opportunity to leave. "What is it that you said about my father?"

The two exchanged looks, one turning back to her and speaking, "Princess, we couldn't—"

"You can and you will."

"But the prince—"

"You will tell me," she demanded, her eyes growing wider the more she struggled against her tears. "If my father is dead, I have more right to know than anyone has to keep it from me."

They looked at one another once more.

"Yes, princess," said one, bowing respectfully. The other grasped at her arm, reluctant to give in. "We learned that your father, King Hákon died in Corrin."

"We are sorry, princess," the other said.

"You will not speak of this encounter to anyone." Asta waved her hand, dismissing them. They could not run away from her fast enough. She let out a shuddering breath, steeling herself.

She would not cry for him. She refused.

"Princess?" called Vilhelm gently.

Yet a tear betrayed her, stumbling from her eye and rolled to her cheek where she quickly wiped it from existence.

"Escort me to my room," ordered Asta. "I am tired."

"Yes, princess."

{ **ii** }

"How is your back?" asked Lady Bo, observing her as she ate breakfast.

"It no longer hurts," answered Asta, distracting her pain by paying close attention to her table manners, which had impressed her caretaker who had not once corrected her since the food had been served. She offered her caretaker a small smile.

Lady Bo clapped her hands, drawing the attention of all of her attendants. Each one of the ten young women in her service were performing their chores that morning, most of which consisted of tidying up the rooms in her apartments. They all waited for their superior to speak.

"Out, ladies," she dismissed, waving them towards the door.

The ten attendants vacated the room. Once the door was sealed shut, Lady Bo uncharacteristically sat at the table with her.

Asta stared at her, baffled.

"Put the knife and fork down, princess," said Lady Bo.

She placed both knife and fork down on the corner of her plate. "Is there something you would like to discuss, Lady Bo? Have my manners not been properly minded? Have I done or said something improper? Is my posture slack and unladylike?"

"No," said Lady Bo. "You're perfect." She pursed her lips. "Therein lies the problem, princess."

"I knew it," said Asta, wagging her finger with an excited smile. "I knew you liked me the way I was."

"I am perfectly pleased that you do retain what I teach you and are capable of acting as one expects from a royal," started Lady Bo, "however, your actions are quite telling. Something has you upset."

Asta felt her smile start to fade as she rose from her seat. "I know my father is dead," she said, watching her caretaker's expression change into one of understanding. "I know the prince asked you to withhold the news and I would prefer we leave it there for today. Can we start with whatever schedule you have planned?"

"There is no schedule," said Lady Bo. "Prince Kouen asked us to relieve you of all obligations for the week. You are free to do as you wish, so long as you are in the company of an attendant and guard."

Was it pity?

"Oh. Very well."

"You should take the time to rest, princess," said Lady Bo. "More importantly, you should take the time to mourn your father's passing. He was a great man and king."

Asta's eyes filled with tears. "He was a cruel man and a stupid king," she said, feeling her emotions betray her. "You know…I don't recall an instant where he was kind or conscious of me. I don't…remember ever feeling loved by him. Sometimes, I…I thought…he hated me."

She sniffled, swallowing hard. A tear hung at the edge of her right eye, teetering as she tilted her head back to stop it from falling.

Lady Bo rose from her seat, advancing towards her with her hands clasped in front of her chest. "Princess, may I?"

Asta stared at her caretaker, confused. "What?"

Her caretaker opened her arms and Asta walked into them, giving her permission to fold them across her back. Lady Bo embraced her, holding the back of her head with one of her bony-fingered hands. "You are far too kind to withhold all the tears you wish to shed for him."

Asta's cheek was pressed against her thin shoulder. She blinked and her vision blurred. She stood in place with her arms at her sides realizing the little strength that built up the walls holding back her sadness were covered in cracks.

"Be it cruel or foolish, he was your father and you loved him more than you think you hate him."

She sobbed and it broke her. She cried, holding onto Lady Bo tightly. She felt her heart pounding, desperate to see the sadness leave her body because her father didn't deserve her tears.

She could never erase that he was her father and that that had always been reason enough to love him. She cared for him, though he kept her at a distance. She worried for him, though he rarely spoke to her. She hated what he did to her, spurning her mother, killing Johan, treating her like a stranger in his home, expressing affection when convenient, and marrying her to keep her from ascending the throne. Everything he broke, he did not want her to fix.

He broke her heart again. Like always.

Lady Bo let her cry on her shoulder until the worst of it was over. She asked Asta to rest for the sake of her heart and her bruise, which hurt more that morning than it had yesterday night. She excused herself to fetch her tea, asking her attendants to clear the breakfast table when Asta refused to eat more.

She even left her alone at her request once a pot of tea had been brought.

Losing her father was different from her mother. With her mother, it had been difficult to imagine how it'd be to smile and laugh. She'd tried everything to preserve her in memory. She'd managed that, but she'd wanted the details.

Asta had no idea what her voice had been like. Not anymore. Her mother had always sung to her. Old songs, new songs, all songs. It hadn't matter what song, she'd sang because she loved it.

She probably had a beautiful voice.

After a year, Asta hadn't a clue what it had been like. She'd given anything to hear it.

Losing her mother had been like learning to walk again after both of her legs had been broken.

Death had always been that way. Brita had told her that one had to learn to live without the people they loved once they had died. They had to learn to walk again with stumbles and falls. They had to keep going and practicing and using anything available to help themselves.

Losing her mother had prepared her for the loss of her father, it had certainly helped overcoming Johan's death. Maybe that had been the reason she had died first, so that she'd ache so badly that she wouldn't feel it as strongly the next time she experienced death.

Losing her father had been like breaking both of her legs a second time. She had some idea of what to expect, so she wouldn't have to go about it blindly. She had knowledge that she'd stumble and fall, that she'd need to persevere and continue practicing. She'd have to accommodate her father's absence into her life.

She wished it hurt less, but it didn't. It was like reopening an old wound with a knife, carving it deep so it left a bigger scar over the still healing flesh.

Asta heard the door open quietly and glanced towards it, expecting Lady Bo, but finding Brita instead. She scrambled out of bed and practically threw herself into Brita's arms, clutching at her with trembling hands.

"I don't have much time," said Brita, gently tugging at her arms. She stared her in the eyes. "You have my condolences for your loss, princess, but from this point forward, you need to be strong. You are now legally the queen of this country, so you must be careful about whom you trust."

At the entrance, she heard Vilhelm call, "Brita, you need to hurry."

Brita placed both hands on either side of Asta's face, wiping the tears from her eyes with her thumbs. "Be wary."

The older woman kissed her cheek. "Come find me if you can."

Asta nodded, reluctant to let Brita go. She sank into a seat at the edge of her bed after she was gone. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what she was supposed to do in this situation. She hadn't even considered the state of Ione. She didn't even think she could be queen when her husband was present.

Who was she supposed to go to when she needed to be wary of who to trust?

Lady Bo fetched Asta to meet Kouen later that evening. She figured word had reached him that she had already become aware of her father's death, despite his efforts to keep it hidden. She had wanted to refuse seeing him, but had found strength enough to reconsider.

She needed to ask about the details surrounding her father's death. She wanted to know if his body had been brought to Ione or if it had been lost in the battlefield. She also desired to learn the reason as to why he ordered everyone to remain silent about the matter because she didn't understand. If it was pity, would she have to respond to it as a compliment? If it was for a different purpose, would she know what to do?

Kouen was inside the western tower, in the room that her father called his office, with her father's chamberlain, Bengt. His back was to her when she entered without Lady Bo's company.

Bengt excused himself properly, pausing in front of her. The man was old, wrinkled, and balding. He followed her father everywhere jotting down notes in that stupid tome he carried with him everywhere. He aided her whenever she was left in charge of the kingdom, but she rarely trusted his judgment. He appeared harmless, but he was rumored to be anything but that. She knew immediately that she should be wary about him, especially seeing after how clingy he had been with her husband since he arrived.

"My condolences, prin—"

"Get out," she ordered, leaving him stunned. She didn't want his feigned sympathies.

Bengt left them alone in the room.

Kouen faced her fully, red eyes settled on hers. "You have my sympathies."

"Thank you," she replied politely. She lowered her eyes, unable to keep herself from feeling ill with the anxiety welling in her stomach. She sighed. "How did he die?"

"On the battlefield of Corrin," answered Kouen, not an ounce of emotion present in his voice. "He received a blow to his head that killed him instantly."

"Oh."

"Sit, we will be discussing Ione." He walked around the largest desk in her father's circular office and took a seat.

Asta approached the desk, but did not sit. "What is there to discuss?" she asked. "Now that my father is dead, this country is yours."

"Your father being alive made no difference," he said. "This country has been mine since our proxy marriage took place."

She felt a flare of emotion cut through the melancholy that possessed her. "You're right," she replied. "It is yours. I apologize for my ignorance."

She wasn't thinking straight, otherwise, she wouldn't have overlooked the glaring reminders that the country belonged to the Kou Empire. After all, it was their money, their food, and their support that revitalized Ione.

Asta took a deep breath, calming herself.

"Although the reality is fairly obvious, there are prominent members of the deposed Ionian House that reject the new system I want implemented," Kouen began. "While I find they can be easily subjugated if your life were threatened"—and he paused—"you are my wife and will be treated as such. Rest assured, princess, I will not mistreat you."

"What do you expect me to do?" asked Asta, wary of his words.

"Once the news of the king's death becomes public, the Ionian House will be reinstated and they will likely push to crown you queen," he explained. "What I expect you to do is to persuade them into bending their will to the Kou Empire."

Her tongue felt dry in her mouth. She had been born after the Ionian House had been dissolved, so she had not known anything apart from what her mother had said and it had been that the House had been good to Ione. She had met the representatives of each province through social gatherings, but none of their meetings had involved politics. She had no idea whether what he asked for was possible at all. She and those representatives had been nothing but passing acquaintances.

"And if I can't do it?"

"I will take control of this country by force," he stated. "We will meet with the Ionian House in two days' time. You can begin there."

She understood that he was offering her an opportunity to settle things without violent means, but still, she was afraid. This was his version of kindness. She found she couldn't ask for more.

The conversation was finished. Kouen made that clear in his sudden disregard of her presence as he leafed through papers.

Asta excused herself, turning away from the desk to walk to the door.

"Astoria," called Kouen. "Your father's corpse should be here soon. Bengt has already started preparations for his funeral rites."

She halted. She didn't think she heard correctly, but she was sure he called her Astoria.

Slowly, she faced him again, stunned. He didn't even know her name.

"My name is Asta," she corrected, insulted. She didn't bother to stay and listen to whatever else he wanted to stay. She went straight for the door. She didn't expect him to know anything about her, but she expected him to know what her name was. This frustrated her, especially because she had bothered learning about him, albeit briefly, it was obviously more than he did.

Lady Bo joined her halfway to her rooms. She leaned forward to have a good look at her face. "Princess?"

Asta smiled. "Everything is fine."

"Good." Lady Bo nodded. "Good. Can I do anything for you?"

"No. You have done enough. Thank you," said Asta, pausing. "I'm going to my room. Alone."

"Yes, princess." Lady Bo bowed and stayed behind.

Asta made the long trip to the eastern wing to her room. She sank into a seat at the table. She drew her legs up to her chest, shifting inside the cushioned armchair so that she was resting her cheek against the back of it. A single thought ran through her mind, haunting her.

What would become of her now? She was just a bargaining chip with a title.

* * *

><p><strong>xl note<strong>: So, this took forever. I hope the 20k + words I am posting altogether makes up for the three weeks it took to finish this chapter. I think it had something to do with that outrageous word count.

Other introductory chapters will feature each main House in this particular system because the representative will be kind of important for the following chapters.

Again, I apologize for the wait, especially since I said you would see it on the 29th and it's the 30th now, and I hope you enjoy this chapter however it is you'll read it.

I want to take the opportunity to thank everyone that added this to their alert or favorite list. And also, a special shout out to **Loteva**, who read the story first on my journal before I decided to post it here, and many thanks to these lovely people for reviewing: **lilith**, **colouredred**, **Musketeer12**, **lovinurburks**, and **mun3litKnight**. I appreciate all the motivating words!

**Guest Review Responses**:

- **lilith**: You will see her reaction in the next chapter. It might be a little...unexpected? I'm not sure. Thank you for reading and reviewing. :)

I am still conflicted with my POV decision, so that internal struggle will continue to be real. I am also going to assume that you all just read both POVs as well, so I'm not going to do the choose your destiny stuff.

* * *

><p><strong>xl's comment corner<strong>:

- Asta's thought process kills me sometimes.  
>- I promise that you have met everyone relevant to the plot with the exception of the current leaders of Ionian Houses. Only a few of these house characters will maintain their relevance in the plot to the end, most will fade into the background. I made you a character list to keep track of everyone, thus far. I'll try to make them memorable so you'll only have to use it during extreme cases...link for it is on my profile! There's also another extra that I call "cheap character profiles" which I wrote by hand. I also drew some of the characters badly. I'll probably keep doing these until I grow bored. So that's linked on my profile as well.<br>- Asta will likely fall down some stairs in the next chapter. She'll realize she's a psychic and try to psychic her way out of stuff, too. Actually, the funeral will happen in the next chapter.

- I apologize that this chapter was so long on its own. I wanted Kouen to have an equally large chapter, but it just couldn't be done.

Thank you for reading!


	4. 02 Ash Field - Kouen

**ASH FIELD** | REN KOUEN

{ **i** }

Hákon had dropped in on Kouen unexpectedly weeks prior to making his move against the Kingdom of Corrin. Kouen had not expected to see him until his visit to Ione, but he had welcomed him to cross the borders of his most recent conquest.

The Ionian King had met with him privately.

"Corrin will take time to seize complete control over," Hákon had said. "I will likely be absent for your visit, but my chamberlain has been instructed to accommodate you throughout your stay." He had paced back and forth. "You should know there are a few nobles opposed to our contract and that they have been troublesome as of late, but I do doubt they will dare make a move against you during your stay. They are really after my daughter."

Kouen had known Hákon had quickly lost favor with the Ionian House, the noble leaders of Ione's provinces, when he had disbanded the group to circumvent opposition.

"The princess is their grand political move," Hákon had expressed. "Extract me from the throne to have her ascend. They need a queen like her, someone young and impressionable, someone they can work through to rebel against change. Ah, but of course, Lady Bo has done marvelous work keeping the princess away from the influences of the Ionian House." He had paused to turn to him fully. "This has not been the first time that they have tried moving against me. They had a young commander in their service last year, Johan Ek. He attempted to kidnap the princess and force her into eloping in the hopes that it would prevent your marriage to her. I caught him straight away and had him executed for treason."

Kouen had considered having the princess brought to him if leaving her in Ione meant complications, but Hákon had waved it off with a laugh. Hákon had proceeded to illuminate him on matters of war concerning Corrin, distracting him from the previous conversation briefly.

Once he had finished saying what he needed to say, Hákon had excused himself, but had not made it to the door before he had turned back around.

"My daughter is a simple, stupid girl," he had said. "She is, however, kind and the people love her for her character. If you face any hardship, you can use her to your advantage." He had raised a finger. "All you need to do is show her kindness."

Kouen replayed the memory in his mind, watching it begin anew in an endless loop. The king was dead and anyone that opposed the Kou Empire's influence could use it to fight back.

Despite how problematic Ione had the potential of becoming, Kouen sat at the table in his wife's room believing it could be an interesting development as morning light began to spill in through slim openings in the drapes. This would be the perfect opportunity to smoke out all his enemies.

He glimpsed at the princess, sleeping so close to the edge of the bed, reminded what everyone before him had said about her. The people loved her.

The bedroom door opened quietly and the thin woman Gyokuen had sent to educate the princess entered, bowing.

"Let her sleep," said Kouen, aware she had arrived to wake her.

"Yes, my prince," said Lady Bo. Keeping her head lowered respectfully, she continued, "Your attendants are waiting in the guest room. Your breakfast will be served as soon as you are ready."

"Have the chamberlain meet me in a few hours."

Lady Bo bowed again before excusing herself.

Kouen rose from his seat and walked out of his wife's room several minutes. He returned to the guest quarters to dress and took his breakfast. He learned that new arrangements had been made for him and his wife. He had gone to see that they were to his liking. The new apartments were roomier and suitably comfortable for two people as they included private adjacent chambers. The princess' boudoir was past the door by the fireplace and his solar was through a door to the right of the canopy. The solar was smaller than the bedchamber as expected, decorated lightly with black tapestries threaded with silver, moss green drapes that fell across windows that faced the vast forest of the neighboring province and a hill of orange wildflowers. There was a fireplace in front of a long wooden table with long benches on either side of it and a small bed in the corner hidden behind a pair of drapes. There were several tall bookshelves, mostly empty with the exception of a few woodwork pieces.

He had finished ensuring all of his things were intact when the castle's chamberlain walked in.

Bengt was a balding man that served Hákon since he took his position as king. He was more often seen carrying around a thick tome and something to scribble with, usually a silent man, but very knowledgeable of Ione's inner workings.

"Good morning, my prince," greeted Bengt. "I do hope the room was to your liking.

Kouen acknowledged him with a curt nod, sure to dismiss the two attendants remaining in his presence. "Tell me about the Ionian House."

"The Ionian House?" questioned Bengt. "Ah, yes. The Ionian House consisted of representatives from the leading noble families that acted as mediums for the needs of the people in the kingdom. They essentially reworked the Ionian peoples' wants and needs and restructured them into propositions they presented to the queen as potential laws. After a few years, the Ionian House flourished, grew into a governmental power that was eventually able of deposing a queen if they felt she was an unfit ruler. When the princess' mother became ill and incapable of ruling, my king went through the Ionian House to see himself assigned King Regent until the princess was old enough to take the crown."

"Why would the queen offer that kind of power to the Ionian House?" asked Kouen.

"I believe she thought it was the correct thing to do," answered Bengt. "It was quite…progressive of her. Admittedly, the Ionian House worked well for Queen Elina, but it softened our people. More often than not our weakness was exposed and our fair country fell victim to the threats of some of our neighbors. We became a joke to them."

"If the king were to die, would the Ionian House gain power?"

"As the princess would be too young to rule and you would be viewed as—forgive me for saying this—an inappropriate choice, they would reinstate themselves to act as her councilors," he explained. "Ione would fall apart under the princess' leadership. She is too young and too soft. She would fall prey to the manipulations of the Ionian House."

"Yet she remains the most powerful person in this country, with or without her father present," said Kouen, reminded that the one fact about his wife that had stuck was that she was powerful within the country because she was loved. Even if the Ionian House came together after the knowledge of Hákon's death spread and his wife ascended the throne, she would remain his wife and the country would remain his. It only needed to be reminded of who rescued it from its ruin.

"Indeed, she is, but being beloved by the country for being kind rarely makes for even an adequate ruler. King Hákon wanted the country to fall into better hands, which is why he willingly sacrificed the future of Ione to make it possible. It was a blessing that the emperor would become so interested in our humble country and that you chose our princess to be your consort."

It was better to say that he married her army and that it had been a good match.

"The king expressed his concern over an uprising against the Kou Empire's influence," said Kouen, annoyed by Bengt's subject change. "He said the princess would be used as a political move by the nobles that are opposed to my occupation."

"We are fortunate that the king is alive, whether he remains in Ione or is elsewhere conquering land on your behalf, the Ionian House is not permitted to act out. Doing so means treason. After Johan Ek, the Ionian House has quieted significantly, but that is not to say they have stopped working to see to that the princess inherits the throne."

Kouen rose from his seat, believing now was a good time as any to inform a few select individuals that he received news from Corrin about King Hákon's death.

Bengt took a step back, keeping a respectful distance away from him.

"Have all of the princess' attendants called to the Great Hall," he told him, walking past him out the door. "Order the servants and the Ionian Castle Guard back to the quarters."

"Yes, my prince," said Bengt.

Kouen took care of gathering a select number of higher-ranking soldiers among the Kou's army station in Ione. The only people that had become aware of King Hákon's passing were the men he sent to Corrin to assist in the war effort. He made sure to have the messenger disposed of before he had the chance to take the information to House Tjäder, which tended to all military affairs. No house attached to the Ionian House held his trust, no matter how closely tied they were to the king. Hákon made more enemies than he could handle and ignored them.

Bengt entered the Great Hall with Bo and her ten attendants. The Great Hall was a grand room where most festivities were held with several tables coupled with benches and a raised dais at the end of the hall with another table where two intricately carved chairs sat, one stood taller and more pronounced than the other signifying it as the royal seat. The Great Hall was a little peculiar in that it was roofless, so anyone walking along the second floor corridors above it were able to look down. The second floor was filled with Kou Empire soldiers ordered to keep the Ionian Castle Guard and the servants out of the area if they disobeyed their orders to remain in their quarters.

"The king is dead," said Kouen bluntly, observing the quick change in everyone's expressions. He continued, divulging only the information he felt was relevant, "His body is being transported back to Ione. You are to keep your silence and ensure that word does not reach the princess until his body arrives, after which I will tell her."

"Yes, my prince," came everyone's reply.

"Bo," he began. "Clear the princess' schedule for the remainder of the week. If she leaves the castle, see to it that she is accompanied by a member of her guard and an attendant. If someone strange attempts to contact her, you are to present them as an enemy for the guard and have them captured."

"Yes," answered Bo.

He imagined the princess was perfectly capable of distracting herself when she had no responsibilities to worry about.

Kouen dismissed her and her attendants. As they walked out the large doors, he heard Bo tell the ten girls to keep their mouths shut about the matter or face severe consequences. He proceeded to speak to his soldiers, keeping the chamberlain in wait as he grew more and more anxious with every passing minute.

"Speak with the squadron guarding the princess and ask that their numbers be increased," he ordered, then dismissed them to deliver news of the kings death to every Kou soldier in Ione.

Kouen turned to Bengt. "Take me to Hákon's study."

"Right this way, my prince."

Bengt took him in the direction of the western wing, along the second floor's outer halls where he could see the Great Hall, and up a winding staircase within the western tower. At the top of the stairs was a heavy oaken door with an iron lock. The chamberlain handed him a key before excusing himself.

"Preparations need to be made for the king's funeral rites, excuse me," he informed, sidling past Kouen to descend the stairs.

Kouen unlocked Hákon's study and entered the circular room again. The first time he had entered, the tables were stacked with papers and books; there were cobwebs and dust everywhere. It was as cold as he remembered it, but the room smelled clean. The floors were scrubbed and all the cobwebs had been knocked down. The books were reorganized into the bookshelves and the papers were all put into neat stacks atop spotless tables.

He walked forward to the center table where the most stacks were set besides a canister full of pens. He went through a few documents, most detailing finances, other pertaining to arrest warrants issued by the king himself. He went onto search the bookshelves, tugging heavy old tomes out at random in search of a particular one he remembered seeing at Hákon's desk. He had not noticed the same day he had visited Hákon for the first time, but after he had replayed the conversation in his head a few times, he had time to realize that the king had unconsciously kept a single book with him, always moving back to it while he paced to place his hand atop it. Kouen remembered it full of loose pages that stuck out, a discolored blue color that looked gray, and ripped edges.

Kouen continued moving through each bookshelf, removing all the books that resembled the one from his memory and stacking all the ones that weren't on top of the shelves. For a moment, he considered the possibility that the king took it with him and that it now sat clutched against his chest in death, but he thought about it closely and changed his mind. Hákon was incredibly paranoid. If he valued the contents of that book, he would likely leave it in a place where it would be overlooked, as it would remain under the noses of his most trusted people. Kouen only knew two other people that had access to the room, apart from the king and himself, and they were the chamberlain and the princess.

He tugged out another book and at once, a page fell from within it, floating down gently to land at his feet. He recognized the royal seal—cursive words that spelled out 'Io'—at the bottom in red wax, beside it was the king's signature. The paper was an old arrest warrant for a man called Johan Ek, a commander of the Ionian army. Hákon mentioned having made an example out of Johan during their last conversation. Bengt mentioned him too.

Kouen's attention returned to the book. He opened it, convinced it had to be the one and realized it as soon as he reviewed its contents. He decided to reserve inspecting it for later that evening, as what he wanted from Hákon's study was further knowledge of the Ionian House's creation, its members during their deposition, and the current leaders of each province if they had changed. He had purposely delayed learning all information pertaining to Ione, despite Koumei repeatedly feeding it to him, because he wanted to have something to distract himself during the fortnight he was scheduled to stay to comply with the contractual duties of his marriage to Ione's princess.

He had presented himself because it was required by Ionian law that they consummate the marriage within a year's time or his wife would be allowed to petition an annulment. He had an inkling that that little detail had been withheld from her, which hadn't surprised him considering what little thought her father gave to her, which had nothing to do with her wellbeing, rather the fact that she had posed a threat to his unchallenged rule.

He hadn't thought about what he would do about his wife after he settled things in Ione, expecting they went as he desired.

Kouen searched the shelves, pulling out several books, looking for one on the nine houses. While he found nothing relevant, he considered his options with the princess. He could leave her in charge of Ione since it was what she was used to and visit whenever he remembered, which he assumed wouldn't be often. He could bring her along with him, but didn't think she would fare well anywhere near a battlefield and she would likely be viewed as a weakness people could exploit. If she were captured, he would have to get her back simply because she was his wife. He had the option of having her sent to the Kou Empire, but decided against it. He didn't want any unnecessary attention brought to her. After meeting her, he felt she would become an easy target for their magi. He could also leave her in the company of one of his sisters…

He found a record of several loose pieces of pages bound together into a bendable book that detailed the Ionian House, distracting him for some time. The contents appeared to be the original law that instated them as a governmental branch with only a modicum of power signed by the Queen Elina. They were essentially, as Bengt described, the voice for the Ionian commoners as the wealthy held enough influence to petition the queen by status alone. Unless one was a member of the military or aristocracy, they had no say in the betterment of their lifestyle, which the queen believed to be unfair despite there being no need to change any situations.

Setting that record aside, he searched for others alike, but found none. He read plenty of other documents in the room, but none of them important, at least not to grasp at his attention for long.

Kouen exited Hákon's study with the Ionian House papers in his hands and the ratty old notebook that the late king seemed so interested in keeping close. He stuffed the arrest warrant for that man back inside the notebook, thinking it might tie in with something other than the story Hákon gave him about the princess being kidnapped and the plans to see her married to that commoner.

Bengt stopped shouting at an Ionian soldier when he saw him step out of the western tower, abandoning whatever task he was doing to meet him. "Did you find what you needed, my prince?"

He raised the record he collected to Bengt's eyelevel. "Where are these kept?"

"In the eastern wing," said Bengt. "If you would like, I could take you there."

"No," he said. "Where is it?"

"They're in the same corridor as your apartments. You will need to head straight down and to your right up the short flight of stairs," said Bengt. "It used to be the queen's private library, she collected books of all kinds and all places. The king moved the kingdom's records there for safekeeping because there wasn't enough room in his office. It is likely a mess, nobody has stepped foot in there for years."

Kouen stepped away when a soldier came jogging to his side. "Your highness," he called. "A soldier outside the castle saw the princess riding into the Åkerman Province this morning."

"Yes, yes, but she is safely back in the castle with Lady Bo," said Bengt quickly. "She is eating in her bedchamber."

Kouen dismissed them both and headed for the eastern tower, following Bengt's direction. He saw the entrance to his bedchamber open and close behind Bo and her ladies as he turned the corner. They paused to bow as he walked past them, catching sight of his elusive wife peeking out of her room.

He didn't doubt she saw him because he made eye contact and she responded by slamming the door. He expected no less from her and continued walking.

The hinges of the oaken door wailed noisily behind him making him pause and turn to face her. She stood gripping the threshold of the door, staring at the ground as she mumbled, "Good morning."

"It's afternoon," he corrected.

She lifted her wide eyes to him. She looked a little paler as she visibly gulped.

"Oh."

There it was again. The annoying '_Oh._'

"Uhm—" The princess stepped out, her bare feet marking every step she made in approaching him with a soft sound. She fidgeted, struggling again to speak as she had during their first meeting.

He didn't have time to wait until she decided to start a conversation. He was in the middle of something far more important.

"Is there something you need?"

Her lips parted, temporarily stunned.

Did he say something wrong? No. There was something wrong with his wife.

"H-Hunt…"

He narrowed his eyes, not sure he heard correctly. "Hunt?"

Color bloomed across her cheeks. "I-I want to go h-hunt."

She hunted. It explained the bow she had in her possession. "You don't need to ask permission, you can do anything you'd like," he told her, taking a step back to turn and leave.

"No," she said loudly, stopping him.

He waited to hear what else she thought she needed permission to do.

The princess' face was completely red as she took an exaggerated breath and blurted, "Imeanttoinviteyou."

"To hunt?" asked Kouen, surprised he had caught that because she was mumbling.

She nodded. "Yes."

He didn't think she hunted very well. The thought of her clumsily trying to use a bow and arrow came to mind. He never possessed a keen interest in hunting, but he had tried it various times. He had no reason to agree or disagree. He couldn't think of anything else to do with the princess. He wasn't familiar with Ione, having only crossed through a few provinces on his trip to the capital, and could view this as a chance to learn it.

"It will need to be on a different occasion," he decided.

Her face lit up when she smiled. "Yes. Okay," she said excitedly, then waved him off. "You can keep going now."

She waited for him to go before he heard her running down the corridor, shouting, "Lady Bo!"

Kouen reached the end of the corridor and turned the corner, stepping up a few stone steps to a door that didn't open on the first pull. He used the light filtering in from the corridor from the two windows at the end of the hall to find his way around the room enough to illuminate it by pulling apart the heavy curtains. Sunlight spilled into the room making it easy for him to move around and uncover the two other windows on the first level of the room.

The late queen's private library was expansive; every inch of wall was covered by tall bookshelves packed tight with books. There were two levels, the upper level of the library was reached from a staircase sitting along the wall closet to the door and its walls were covered with bookshelves overflowing with scrolls and records similar to the one he pulled from Hákon's personal collection. There were tables on both levels, though the one on the upper floor was longer, both with a single chair drawn against them.

Kouen walked up to the upper floor to pull apart the drapes from the only window there and saw the castle faced a path between the smaller hills where the ground was leveled. He set Hákon's book and the record he acquired atop the table, looking at the entire room as a whole. It was spotless, not a speck of dust in sight. Everything in the room seemed to have been organized neatly.

The entire eastern wing had belonged to the princess' mother. Bengt said that it was a necessity to keep her locked in, but as a queen, she deserved better, so she had been removed from the western wing where the master apartments were located to a scant space in the eastern tower where she lived without a single attendant serving her.

He imagined this particular room had been inaccessible to her. If she had lost her mind as described, there would be no telling whether the things archived in the room would have survived one of her episodes or not since she was known to be violent, which would explain why everything might have remained intact. The issue was that Bengt clearly said that nobody ever came inside the room.

Obviously, somebody had and they had done a proper job in keeping the private library clean. Whoever had gone through the trouble of dusting and scrubbing the library had left a stack of old storybooks sitting at the edge of the long table.

Kouen let them sit and began searching for the records concerning the Ionian House. He found laws stamped with a different seal, one of a bull with its horns curved inwardly surrounded by ten orbs. He found several laws with the same wax seal in black sitting either beside or below the Royal Seal. The country of Ione used a war banner printed in black with a bull's head with similarly curved horns; the same sigil was worn by its army.

After sifting through a few more records, he confirmed the seal was associated with the Ionian House where each orb represented one of the ten houses. He moved from one shelf to the next and learned that everything was organized according to the ruling monarch. Once he caught on, he was easily able to find the first scraps of information on the Ionian House from a square shelf stock-full of records, scrolls, and loose documents folded together concerning Queen Elina's rule.

Kouen gathered everything useful to him, going as far as searching the origins of the ten houses. He preferred knowing as much as he could about a potential enemy and decide whether they would be useful to him or not. As the situation was now, he didn't have real reason to order for the presence of more drastic changes because Ione had been reasonably pliant. Ione understood it was in no position to rebel against modification, more than half the citizens were starved and the streets were filthy, littered with neglected corpses when he first came across it. There were better looking provinces within the country, but he had not had the time to receive a complete tour of Ione since he had been on a short visit. The desperate Ionian citizens would have taken scraps if they were offered to them.

He quite liked the Ionian citizens. They were so desperate they didn't care what happened to their country so long as it meant they had a chance at a fair living, which was something the Kou Empire provided them. However, the aristocratic houses, both the elites that served in the Ionian House and those that resided in Astoria, the country's capital, had been wronged. To appease the ordinary citizens, Hákon took from the rich to give to the poor, which had become the basis to most of their hatred towards the man. He had tried appeasing them by giving them the occasional gifts, splitting the spoils of war, offering them first pick of the prisoners turned slaves, but a number of aristocrats viewed his actions as an insult.

Nobility would benefit under the Kou Empire, but they had no reason to trust him as he had made a deal with their king, who had willingly given up Ione.

Kouen was amazed none of the nobles ever though to invade Io Castle with private armies and kill Hákon, but he quickly realized the answer to his own inquiry. The higher class and the lower class lacked the backbone. Over seventy percent of the residents were members of the army and they were loyal to Hákon, whether that was out of fear or respect was unknown. It was a shame the country had no one willing to outright fight for it.

He chased the thoughts from his mind. It was for the best. If Ione had wanted to fight, he was certain they would have been capable of putting a dent in his own army if he and his household were to stay out of it. So, it made better sense to want them on their side.

Ionians were notoriously stubborn and hard to kill.

Further digging through the upper level's collections resulted in many interesting finds. He unearthed an unfinished map of the country hidden between two bookshelves and spread it across the long table. It was outlined simply with a few scribbled details about terrain and locations marked by squares and exes. Io Castle was properly marked over the hills within the capital. Astoria sat surrounded by the Hult Province—according to the notes was a forested terrain full of game, dangerous cliff sides, and hidden tree villages—the Åkerman Province—fields of crops with fewer citizens—and the Tjäder Province—the military base—that wrapped around the capital. There were several military bases marked on the unfinished map, there were at least two within each province.

Outside, a distressed horse squealed loudly, drawing his attention to the window facing towards the flatter ground in time to see a white mare rise swiftly onto her hind legs kicking her front hooves and drop its pale-haired rider on her back, who cried out in surprise on her way down. The white horse stepped down quickly and stormed out of sight, rushing frightened up a small hill.

"Princess!" called a young male far from his sight. "Miss Carina! The princess!"

Kouen noticed that his wife had been the rider. She didn't move for a time, but when an overgrown cat circled her and brushed its tail across her face, he saw her lips move. She rolled onto her left side, a pained look on her face, and hoisted herself into a seat when a female guard and a shabby-looking man came running to help her.

He turned back to the map and decided to set it aside. The little he recognized about Ione's terrain was accurate, but there was no telling if the rest of it was, so he didn't want to waste time looking over it when there were several records to address concerning the Ionian House.

Each province adopted the family name of the ruling aristocrats. While they did not possess the power of one sees in a monarchy, they exert similar influence over their residents. Each family worked their way to their position, each seeing their roots in meager foot soldiers or farmers. When Ione invaded the island they turned into their kingdom, they were said to have been mere farmers and blacksmiths that had lost their home and were seeking refuge after a harsh storm left them shipwrecked there. The natives were not interested in cohabitating with the Ionian tribe and decided to attack them, so the tribe had no choice but to defend themselves in order to survive. Henceforth, the tribe conquered the island piece by piece, taking the war prisoners as their own and selling them as slaves to larger countries like the Reim Empire where they managed to make a nice profit.

But that was simply one version of the story. Obscure kingdoms like Ione didn't draw attention to themselves unless they wanted to and only worried over neighboring island kingdoms like Baryon and Corrin. However, when large countries sought them out, it had been for their ships. Baryon was famous for its shipwrights and many of their more famous shipwrights worked for some large country.

He was certain there were at least ten shipwrights from Baryon in the Kou Empire working with them for years.

Kouen left the library once one of his attendants appeared to ask if he would be taking dinner, making him realize that he had skipped lunch and that he had been straining to read in the dark. He ordered the attendant to have a bath prepared for him in the guest quarters he had been occupying. It might have been easier to go to the bathhouse, which had been built into the castle to comply with marriage rituals attached to their culture as the nearest one lay several miles into the Hult Province, but he hated the smell of the bath oil permeating the building. Yesterday had been his first experience with the bathhouse and he decided it would also be his last.

As he exited the room in front of his attendant, he asked, "How is the princess?"

"Lady Bo took her to the bathhouse earlier and called a physician to see about a bruise on her back," the attendant surmised before he was dismissed to do as ordered.

Kouen dropped by Hákon's office to leave a few books he wanted to read a few times over tomorrow while he waited for his the bath to be readied. He took the opportunity to skim through Hákon's book only to realize it was something of a journal where he kept most of his decisions and actions detailed. There were several loose sheets inside for other things and he stumbled across Johan Ek's arrest warrant again. That man would have had a connection to whatever House was bound to be problematic if he had been tasked to take the princess and marry her.

A knock at the door prompted him to close Hákon's book and set it back atop the other stack of books he had brought with him. He blew out the candle and opened the door. His attendant waited outside to inform him that the bath was waiting.

Kouen returned to his guest quarters for his bath and dinner, which gave him an opportunity to think about what needed to be done, though he realized he probably should have brought Koumei with him.

Bengt appeared before him after his attendants had finished clearing his table.

"What is it?" asked Kouen.

"I have begun preparations for the king's funeral rites, I doubt I will be able to keep them secret," said Bengt.

"If you're unable to keep them a secret, postpone them."

Bengt nodded, excusing himself.

Kouen went to his shared apartments once it had grown darker, annoyed with the chamberlain for being stupid, and entered as his wife whined, "It's too cold!"

Bo and one of her girls were in his wife's company, both quick to greet him with respectful bows. "My prince."

"Did something happen?" asked Kouen, figuring it would be proper to ask considering his wife was lying on her stomach with her back exposed and a violent purple bruise across her shoulder blade.

"The princess had an accident," said Bo politely. "She slipped on the final step of the staircase and bruised her back badly."

He arched an eyebrow, noticing the older woman tense under his gaze. He would have believed her if he hadn't seen the princess fall off the horse.

"It was a horse," the princess corrected, annoyed.

The two women stepped aside as he walked around the canopy to enter his solar. He stole a glance at his wife, who was looking back at him, as he stepped inside the adjacent room. He didn't have anything left to do, nothing he couldn't push onto tomorrow, as he would need to keep himself busy for the remaining twelve days he had in Ione.

He sat down at the edge of the small bed, listening to the princess' attendants leave the room after bidding her a good night. He looked to the flames in the fireplace, watching them eat up the firewood, and sighed. Ione was quite possibly the most boring place he had ever been to and he was stuck there for twelve more days.

{ **ii** }

The overgrown cat he saw outside with the princess was sleeping curled against her neck when he made his way out of the solar yawning. The sun had risen a few minutes ago, but the sky had remained cloudy and gray. The rest of the day had remained quite glum, like it would rain at any moment. He had spent most of his time coming in and out of the western tower, going through all the books he had brought in from the queen's library. He had a pair of attendants going back and forth between the two locations picking up records as he asked for them after he had taught them where everything was.

Kouen had decided after reading enough on each House family that meeting them in person would be a better method to unearth which were Hákon's enemies and which were his. He wanted to have the princess accompany him as she could provide with him with a better excuse to gather them while keeping the fact the king was dead a secret. He would have to meet them eventually, but it'd work better if the princess were to be present as if it had been her own idea.

Bengt approached him later that evening with a grim look on his wrinkled face.

"What now?" asked Kouen, looking up from the open record in his hands.

"It appears the princess is aware her father died," confessed Bengt. "She overheard two of her attendants speaking last night and ordered they speak truthfully. Lady Bo has already punished them severely, but awaits your decision on whether she should have them replaced."

Kouen had heard when the princess had left the room last night, but had chosen to ignore it. He didn't think she'd get in any trouble in the middle of the night.

"How did she react?" he asked. Perhaps, she laughed. Hákon had ignored her existence unless she had exerted it and wrote about it with obvious displeasure. He would have sold her into slavery if it meant he had a way to make his kingdom stronger. The only use he had for her was to create an alliance, which he had already done, meaning she had gone back to being invisible to him afterward.

"She only stopped crying a few minutes ago," answered Bengt.

"Have her brought here," ordered Kouen. There was no point in hiding Hákon's death if she was already aware of it. He could have that meeting with the Ionian House scheduled quickly.

The chamberlain excused himself briefly, returning to confirm that he had relayed the information to Bo, who would have the princess in the tower in a few minutes.

"Have you made a decision about the Ionian House?" asked Bengt.

"We will hold a gathering for them in two days' time," said Kouen. "Be sure to summon them on the princess' behalf."

"Yes, my prince."

The princess entered the office noisily, drawing their immediate attention.

"My condolences, prin—"

"Get out," the princess interjected, narrowing her reddened eyes at the chamberlain.

She waited for the chamberlain to leave to step closer to the center of the room where she halted, staring at him directly when his eyes fell on hers. She looked the same as she had when he had first seen her, except she was standing much closer now and he could see that her eyes were glassy and threatening tears.

"You have my sympathies," he offered.

"Thank you," she said, lowering her eyes to the floor. She shakily sighed. "How did he die?"

"On the battlefield of Corrin," he answered. Her eyes flickered to his face briefly. "He received a blow to his head that killed him instantly."

"Oh."

He ignored the stupid remark. "Sit, we will be discussing Ione."

There wasn't much to talk about, but she needed to be informed of certain things.

Kouen took a seat behind the largest desk.

The princess approached the desk, but refused the seat. "What is there to discuss?" she asked, noting a bit of bite in her words. "Now that my father is dead, this country is yours."

"Your father being alive made no difference," he corrected, "this country has been mine since our proxy marriage took place."

Her blue eyes widened and her hands fisted at her sides. She tensed as she took a step back, swallowing what seemed to have been a realization to her. She avoided looking at his face as she spoke, "You're right. It is yours. I apologize for my ignorance."

She took a shuddering breath.

"Although the reality is fairly obvious, there are prominent members of the deposed Ionian House that reject the new system I want implemented," he started, not waiting until she recovered from whatever else she took insult with. "While I find they can be easily subjugated if your life were threatened"—he paused, observant of her reaction, of the way the air seemed to have left her lungs—"you are my wife and will be treated as such. Rest assured, princess, I will not mistreat you."

"What do you expect me to do?" asked Asta, blond eyebrows drawn in worry.

"Once the news of the king's death becomes public, the Ionian House will be reinstated and they will likely push to crown you queen," he explained. "What I expect you to do is to persuade them into bending their will to the Kou Empire."

She hesitated before speaking. "And if I can't do it?"

"I will take control of this country by force," he answered. It would be easier, but perhaps, he expected more from the princess. More than her mumbling and evasive nature, more of the spark she displayed as she tried to dismiss the conversation earlier. Then maybe, there would be something interesting in her. "We will meet with the Ionian House in two days' time. You can begin there."

She looked to have grasped the situation and stood there mutely.

Kouen redirected his attention to the documents on the desk, going through them to find that arrest warrant for Johan Ek to ask her about it since what he father had written had been limited to gibberish.

"Excuse me," she mumbled, walking away from the desk.

He forgot to tell her about her father. He realized in the split instant that he was about to call her by name that he had never bothered to learn it. He did recall Bengt mentioning that she had been named after Ione's capital.

"Astoria," he called. "Your father's corpse should be here soon. Bengt has already started preparations for his funeral rites."

She stopped at the door, turning on her heel slowly, her expression blank. "My _name _is Asta."

_Asta_ didn't wait a moment longer to leave and she wasn't the least bit impressed by the fact that he had called her Astoria because she slammed the door behind her. She decided now to act like a child.

Bengt reentered the room, looking over his shoulder before he closed the entrance. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Kouen left his seat, walking past the chamberlain without a word. He was frustrated without real reason other than the fact that he found his wife and her situation frustrating. He felt he worked at a quicker pace and everyone in Ione was slow, unable to keep up. Koumei would do a better job dealing with these people and he would make sure he would be there with him as conveniently possible.

* * *

><p><strong>xl's comment corner<strong>:

- Kouen's chapters will always highlight how embarrassing Asta is as a person.  
>- My music shuffle was landing on all the pop songs while I was writing this. It was very inappropriate.<br>- Asta will likely kill Kouen with her cuteness, you know, if she doesn't drive him nuts first. That's the plan. It'll likely not work out. She's not cute. Anyways, I feel once she stops mumbling, she'll start yelling, and once she stops mumbling she'll start being a stalker. And then you'll all be "oh my god, Kouen married a stalker."  
>- My motivation for this chapter was we're going to have Kouen fucking explore and learn shit. Next chapter he's going to fucking read everything. I'm so sorry Kouen.<p>

- Koumei would likely view his visit to Ione as a vacation and spent the entire time sleeping. He'd probably befriend Joa.

- Kouen is going to kill it with Asta in the next chapter. Like a serious low blow.

Thank you for reading! :D


	5. 02 Ash Field - Extra

**ASH FIELD** | BRITA GRAHN

Brita Grahn started work at dawn. Farmers were allowed three breaks throughout the day, two short ones to take a moment to sit under the shade, moments of reprieve from the burning sun, and the longest one for lunch. She didn't hate her new assignation. She wouldn't have minded if she had ended up fishing for trout in the Nyström Province or working as a servant in the Strand Province for a wealthy merchant family. People thought that because she had predominantly been trained to be a lady-in-waiting and had served as the princess' attendant, she would be a little more outraged when Lady Bo decided Asta needed better care. She definitely felt insulted with the way Lady Bo phrased everything as though anyone apart from her was beneath her. There were other ways to say the same thing without being ruthless. Lady Bo didn't share the sentiment.

People didn't understand that while she was assigned to work in the farms, she could easily ask for a different job. What she wanted was to be in a place that would be considered accessible for Asta? The princess treated her as a friend, as most of the people around her. She liked to forget that she was royalty and that everyone else served under her. They were her employees and while she had to be just with them, she didn't need to try and befriend them. She needed to have someone she trusted around her. Brita had been that person since she had been assigned to care for her because her mother suspected she would die in the eastern tower and she didn't want to leave her daughter alone.

It was a kind sentiment, but Ingrid should have invested in teaching Asta better than filling her head with silly ideas. She wouldn't be such a handful if she had.

Work ended at around sundown. Brita would return home. Home was in a tiny village filled with cottages all lined in a row. Their backyard consisted of a dirt road and acres of wheat. Everyone was acquainted. They were welcoming and a jollier bunch than the people from the castle. The castle's atmosphere was gloomier. The walls were made of black stone and were cold to the touch. The rooms were too big and uninviting.

Not like her cottage. There was a homey feel to it even though it was less than she was used to.

Brita would prepare dinner for herself after a bath and depending on the day would wait up all night until every torch on the street was put out.

On those particular evenings, of which today so happened to be one, she was summoned to a dilapidated structure far from the Ionian capital, chosen not for its remote surroundings but for its key location. It sat nestled in an area where it was easily accessible by the ex-members of the Ionian House.

The Ionian House resumed activity a few years after they realized Hákon had used them to sit on the throne, repaying their trust in his word by disbanding their order and throwing the country into chaos.

Brita entered the house after taking a moment to look at her surroundings. Once the door was securely shut behind her, she pulled the hood of her cape off her head, greeted by the murmur of voices in a room deep inside the old building.

She followed the sound in the darkness, holding her hands in front of her to be sure she didn't bump into any walls or old furniture. Dust rose with every step, the floorboards creaked noisily beneath her weight, alerting the owners of the voices of her presence and prompting them to immediate silence.

A door outlined by the soft illumination emitting from indoors opened, allowing a long bar of light to fall across the floor. A tanned, robust man with a thick beard stood with his door on the handle, staring directly at her until she came close enough for the light to reveal her identity. He turned to the person inside.

"It's Brita, so put your sword away."

Brita took the door from him, allowing him to return to his seat in front of a lone candle atop a crate. He was in the company of a strict-looking woman with narrow eyebrows, dressed in male clothes, that was sheathing her sword. They were the only members present.

The man that answered was Kay Åkerman and the woman Freja Tjäder, both heads of their respective noble families.

"The princess visited you this morning," began Åkerman. "What did she have to say?"

"She only came to whine about her husband," Brita revealed, hoping to get through the basic information to deliver the critical news she learned earlier about the king's death, "but I did learn that the marriage was consummated."

"Separating them will be all the more difficult now," lamented Åkerman, glimpsing at Tjäder, who stood with her arms folded over her chest. "The Kou Empire is exerting more influence within this country, if we continue to allow it, Hákon will have his way."

"I offered the princess a bit of advice," said Brita. "I told her she should try to get along with her husband so that she may remain in his good graces. But there's more—"

"That child has the charm of this room," criticized Tjäder, interrupting, gesturing all around to their surroundings. The room was falling apart. "The best course of action is to round our armies and rid the island of every Kou Empire soldier on Ionian soil."

"Prince Kouen alone would be enough to subdue whatever scraps we gather to call an army," said Åkerman, earning a glare from Tjäder.

Brita tried to speak, but was interrupted again.

"Nyström and Öman told me they witnessed the departure of several soldiers under the Kou Empire's banner on several fleets," said Tjäder. "They did not seem to be returning to the Kou Empire, rather, it looked as though they were heading towards Corrin. That stupid brother of mine must have encountered trouble." She covered her face with her hand as she shook her hand. "How could he have gotten mixed up with the Kou Empire? How?"

"Lady Tjäder—"

"We should just kill him," suggested Tjäder. "After that audacious summons he sent in the princess' name, who does he think he is? Let us take advantage of the opportunity and kill him. There. I don't care if he's the king of the universe, I _will _spear him."

"Lady Tjäder!" called Brita forcefully. She quickly realized her mistake when the woman rounded on her.

"Listen to me, you little shit," snapped Tjäder. "We wouldn't be having this fucking dilemma if you had done your job correctly with Johan. Rather, we wouldn't be dealing with this if you hadn't let Ingrid coddle that child. Her survival instincts suck. You throw her in Hult's Forest and she'd get lost and die there. She has the same amount of charm as a lump of wood. Who are we fooling that that little, bumbling idiot is capable of keeping a man like Ren Kouen under control?" She glared at Åkerman. "Your stupid plan is not working now and it's not going to work later. Our country is as good as lost if we don't fight for it."

Åkerman waved his hands, trying to calm the angry woman.

Irritated, Brita shouted, "The king is dead!"

She wouldn't have been able to command their attention long enough it she hadn't yelled the truth.

Tjäder and Åkerman turned away from each other and stared at her in complete disbelief.

"The king was killed in the battle for Corrin," she finished. "I learned from one of the soldiers in the castle."

"That fucking useless bastard!" cursed Tjäder, storming out of the room. "That useless shit! Just when we need him alive, he ups and dies!"

Åkerman chased after the woman, worried she would make a scene. "Tjäder! Come back!"

Brita followed him, rolling her eyes. These people were annoying.

As she said before, she had been predominantly trained to be a lady-in-waiting, but that had come after she had been trained to spy on the royal family by the Ionian House's leaders. She didn't care what she needed to do, so long as she was paid for doing it.

* * *

><p><strong>xl's comment corner<strong>:

- So that happened.

Thank you for reading! D:

I'm going to go find a nice corner to sit in and like try to become one with the universe until the universe let's me write another chapter for this in less than 3 weeks.


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